


Berserk

by divisionten



Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divisionten/pseuds/divisionten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clank's developed a computer virus that completely takes over his programming, taking fire on Ratchet and ravaging the Meridian City Planetary Defense Center. Clank's pretty sure that someone from the inside is responsible, and the demolition duo are quickly running out of time to save Clank and solve the mystery... before the Zoni robot is forever lost. (Complete)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Center

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in conjunction with wrenchmxster on tumblr, originally as an RP. Several chapters will be posted today, and new ones will be added as the RP continues.

“…Clank?" 

 The battle was supposed to be over. Ratchet and Clank just spent three days hard at work, doing what, apparently, they do best. Escorting evacuee transports off the planet, sabotaging enemy operations, and fighting from every conceivable angle until, with the strength of the Defense Force reinforcements that arrived on day three behind them, they sent the Zarethian invaders packing. Meridian City is supposed to be safe again. 

 So why was Clank, here in the briefing room at the Planetary Defense Center, covered in blood? Whose blood was that? 

 "What’s going on? What happened to you?” All concern, Ratchet rushed straight over, rounding the conference table and kneeling next to his friend.

* * *

 

Clank shook.

“I… I… I… do not kn-jn-know Ratchet.” Clank shuddered internally. He was barely able to keep tabs on his processes. “I th.. I th… I think I have a virus…”

Clank tried to recall the last three days, but realized he couldn’t. Fearing the worst, Clank balled himself up into condensed Zoni energy, shut down his robotic body, and shot himself-his **_soul_** \- into the nearest object he could- the briefing room’s computer, before trying to figure out how to communicate with Ratchet. He flipped open a word processor program, typing rapidly.

MUCH BETTER. RELATIVELY SPEAKING. RATCHET YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE. I CANNOT REMEMBER THE-

Clank heard a crash, and turned on the computer’s remote conferencing camera to see.

His body, sans him inside it, was blinking to life, psimorphic blasters in his fingertips aimed squarely at Ratchet.

* * *

“A virus? Wait, you can get – ?”

Suddenly, the light left Clank’s eyes and Ratchet froze. He stared, dumbfounded, not noticing that Clank has left his chassis and is communicating from the computer behind him.

“Y – Clank? What’s – what are you…? Clank!” He shook him gently just before realizing that that’s not going to help a robot that just shut down out of nowhere.

…or, okay, maybe it will. The chassis hummed back to life and the eyes illuminated once again.

“Hey. Hey, pal, you shut off for a second there. What do you need me to – “

Evasion instinct was way ahead of him. The very instant the robot’s fingers flexed into firing position, he bounded out of the line of sight, ducking under the conference table before he even realizes what’s going on, and when he does his heart is practically trying to beat its way out of his chest, because _Clank just fired at him._

_Clank was **attacking** him._

* * *

Clank realized soon enough that just because he was typing didn’t mean Ratchet could see it. Panicked, he found the text to speech option and began writing again. It was… **_odd_** , speaking with a woman’s posh upper Metropolan accent but he had neither the time nor patience to find something else to speak with.

“RATCHET I AM NOT INSIDE MY CHASSIS. I WOULD SAY INCAPACITATE IT, BUT AS IT TURNED ITSELF ON WITHOUT ME I FEAR NOTHING SHORT OF-”

His own body shot, narrowly missing Ratchet…

Or, Clank realized far too late, it hadn’t actually aimed for Ratchet at all this time, but the conference room computer, frying it. Clank was jostled out of the smoking hardware into a ball of Zoni energy floating above it all, watching his own tiny form shoot potshots at Ratchet. He dodged with ease- other than a single shot that singed the end of his tail, leaving a few embers in his fur, but soon there would be no room left to dodge in. Any moment now, Ratchet would be bolting for the door and Clank would be stuck floating in the room until something was within range for him to jump to.

Going back inside his own body was not a viable option. The rest of the room was a water cooler, a few plush chairs, and a heavy conference table… And Ratchet.

// _I truly apologize_ …// Clank thought, before pushing his pulsing little ball of energy towards Ratchet, not even sure if what he was about to do would work.

* * *

 

Ratchet didn’t know what to do, except to blindly leap out of the path of shot after shot. This is the _last_ situation he ever expected his best friend to put him in, after all, and luckily he’s too focused on _not dying_ to even register anything on an emotional level. And _what_ is that computer over there yelling about – ?!

– Oh. _Oh, okay! He got out!_

But just as he turned his attention to Clank – the real Clank, the one inside the computer, and boy does he sound silly with that lady’s voice on – pausing for a fraction of a second as he listened and waited for help; the robotic shell, where his friend is not, fired at the computer, where his friend is, and destroys it.

“ ** _Clank_** _!”_

A faint blue orb of Zoni bio-energy rose from the ruined computer to the ceiling. At the same moment, the robotic shell fired, just grazing the fringe at the end of his tail and reminding him he has to keep moving. “Come on!” He threw a glance at XJ0461, floating high above the commotion, and grabbed for the door handle, flinging himself through the doorway into the hall.

And then everything goes numb. _Everything._ The hallway floor rushed up to meet him but he didn’t feel the impact, even though he heard it.

He can’t move.

It’s not for lack of trying, either, he did try. But limbs, tail, head and neck, everything is paralyzed. It’s as if his body, like Clank’s chassis, spontaneously shut down. Maybe it did. 

Ratchet does what any rational being would do in this situation: he panicked.

He only got to panic for about a second before everything suddenly seemed…different. Instantaneously, like a switch has been flicked, a calming, reassuring presence settled into his awareness. Not in his mind, but _with_ it, alongside it. It would be totally incomprehensible any other time, but right now, he knew exactly what was happening. 

XJ0461 has to inhabit a corporeal form. And this time, it’s _his_ form _._ Clank was inside his head.

 _[Okay, this is **not** what I meant, pal.] _he thought at the presence.

* * *

[Ratchet, I do apologize] Clank thought back, in shock. Ratchet’s whole body is his now, and it’s a sensory overload that Clank’s not used to. He heard his own chassis charge for another shot, and stumbled to his feet, breaking into a blind run. Adrenaline carries both of them down the hall, but not before Clank accidentally empties Ratchet’s stomach contents on an overturned office chair.

Acceptable casualty.

[My apologies!] Clank thought. He tried using nothing other than Ratchet’s legs (a hard enough task already) and the minute he spied a squad of Mr. Zurkon heading towards them, that were the PDC’s emergency defenses, he pushed himself back out of Ratchet and into the nearest one. At least he knew he could posses Ratchet if needed, though he swore he wouldn’t take over a sentient person again- especially not invade his best friend’s literal inner sanctum.

Thankfully, Mr. Zurkon are simply programmed, no more complex than most children’s toys. Hostile target, shoot, quip, repeat. It was easy enough to jump in and hold on, though, as it wasn’t his own body, he probably had a few hours at best before he wouldn’t be able to overshadow it anymore.

Funny. When he took over Ratchet, he didn’t feel the same way as when he possessed inanimate objects or robots that weren’t him. Ratchet’s mind was warm, and relatively pleasant, the singed tail and the sensation that he later realized was the taste of puke and the twinge of pain notwithstanding. Ratchet was ‘safe’.

Clank was quickly pulled from his thoughts. His chassis, which had already caught up, psimorphics on full recharge, aimed again. Clank didn’t give him a chance this time.

All five of the sentry Zurkons aimed square at the so-called intruder, but it was Clank who blasted his own chassis to smithereens.

“Mr. Zurkon does not like other Zurkons stealing his kills,” the one on his left quipped, before the other four dispersed nonchalantly, target neutralized. Clank looked at the smeared blood, the overturned furniture, the small pile of puke further down the hallway (to his embarrassment) and his own charred…corpse…in the wake of the crazed robot. The rest of the PDC officers would be coming down soon, and Clank didn’t need them knowing that he had the powers of a Zoni.

There was nothing left but his black box now. Clank hovered on the Zurkon’s gravometric system to go closer, cautiously, before picking up the only intact remains of his chassis with his one actual hand.

Clank needed to figure out what went wrong- and find a new body for him to inhabit, one that he could stay in without issue- and fast. The blast he’d delivered to his own body had already taken a toll on his grip of the Zurkon, and he really had no desire to jump back inside Ratchet if it could be avoided.

He dropped the hardware in front of Ratchet, who looked slightly more composed than before. Hopefully he figured out the Zurkon was himself; Clank was beginning to suspect that someone wanted them dead and wanted it on tape that Clank was a murderer. Better not to talk out loud- at least not in his normal speech- and alert whatever mastermind was behind this that Clank actually survived the ordeal.

“Puny furball needs to get up,” Clank admonished, in the Zurkon’s deep voice. “Puny furball can not commit acts of vengeance from the floor.”

* * *

It’s eerie, watching the world fly by him without a move on his part as Clank moved his legs for him, the empty shell of Clank right on his tail, blasters ablaze. And disorienting, did he mention disorienting? It feels like a bad dream. Also a little nauseating. Okay, a _lot_ nauseating. Wait…

[ _Aw, come on!_ ] his thoughts whine as his breakfast makes a dramatic reappearance all over someone’s chair. If he and Clank survive this, they’ll have to find out who to pay for the damage.

In his peripheral vision, a small troop of Mr. Zurkon sentries hovered into the office. Oh, no. If those things fire at the chassis – he’s not sure how it’s connected to Clank’s Zoni soul, but he’d rather not see that put to the test. What if the soul dies with it?

XJ0461 chooses that opportune moment to throw himself out of Ratchet’s mind. Instantly his body is his own again and he can hardly be blamed for wiping out on the floor. 

“Ow!” 

All traces of numbness are gone, leaving everything tingling painfully. His nerves wer still buzzing with adrenaline and his mouth tasted – ugh, best not to think about it.

Where’s Clank? He didn’t see where the soul went. Where was he?!

Before he could get up, Clank’s robotic shell rounded the corner and faced him. The Zurkons immediately took aim.

“Wait, no – !” Ratchet cried out, but it’s already too late. One blast and it’s over. 

“ ** _No!_** ”

He sunk closer to the floor, stunned, as his deepest fear seemed to have become reality. There was nothing left of Clank’s chassis. For all he knows, XJ0461 was destroyed with it.

Just before his world can start collapsing in on itself, though, he noticed one of the Zurkons is still around, although the threat is gone. In fact, it drifted over to the wreckage. Weird. Zurkons aren’t programmed to check out their damage.

It’s only when the Zurkon grabbed the black box that he understands – that’s Clank. He’s still okay. 

“Nice shooting, pal.” His voice quivered a little as he pocketed the black box, and he took a deep breath, calming himself back down. He didn’t yet know why Clank’s using the Zurkon voice rather than his own, but he obediently pulled himself off the floor. “Okay, okay, I’m up. Let’s go. Someone’s gonna come along sooner or later to find out what that noise was all about. And I think I owe someone a new desk chair.”

He headed for the nearest elevator on wobbling legs, Clank hovering behind him, and when the doors slid shut he leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, not yet pressing a floor button. He turned the black box over in his hands.

“Who did this?”

* * *

 

Clank looked around the elevator. It’s a standard RX8 security system, normally fairly hard to crack, but most of the classified workers have override codes so they can have a place to talk unrecorded if need be. Clank interfaced with the system remotely, putting in Ratchet’s code. The camera’s light flickered off… but Clank recognized the residual electronic signals.

It’s still recording, even with the override.

Clank tried not his own, but Talwyn’s, which caused the entire elevator to fail. The emergency light blinked on and Clank drew an internal sigh- their assailant would want that power back on, and fast, and hopefully wouldn’t know that the head of the defense force’s code made the elevator only look like it had a power failure- no recording at all would have certainly been just as much ammo for their real attacker to know Clank was still alive, or, at the very least that Ratchet knew something was wrong, and tail Ratchet more closely.

Clank waited a few moments, just to be sure, and faced Ratchet for real.

“Ratchet we are being watched. Someone- and I am going to assume it’s someone in the PDC, or the Polaris Defense force, is behind it. Your override code put the camera into incognito mode only. It would still be recording if I did not also know Talwyn’s override. Thankfully she trusted me with that key, and that she’s on the top of the chain.”

Clank hovered over to Ratchet’s shoulder, poking the only component remaining of his physical form. “We need to see what is on my mainframe- and from somewhere safe, off the HoloNet, on a computer with exceptionally high security. Someone installed a Trojan in me over the past seventy hours, and I cannot remember who, when, or why. I can only assume that plugging my box into a standard computer will only cause it to crash, or worse, spread that virus further.”

Clank paused for a moment. “I have incredibly accurate targeting. That virus was not intended to kill you. It would have already if it were. It was made to look as though I /tried/ to do so. It was framing me- to corner myself into a position where I would have to be disposed of. It is not you that our aggressor wanted to perish, but me.”

“If you noticed, my chassis shot the conference room computer when I jumped to it. It is not unheard of for a sapient robot to store backups elsewhere. I do not think our perpetrator knows I am Zoni, and simply thought I had beamed my concousness through in an effort to save it. Once that computer had been destroyed, I think that my chassis did a sweep to make sure I was not hiding in another mainframe on site. Thankfully, I had already moved to occupy something not inorganic,” he added gently nudging his slumped partner.

“We need to keep moving, and I am not sure how much longer I can hold on to this Zurkon. I do not think I have any other options, so when my grip slides, may I hide inside you until there is a suitable alternative?”

Clank pointed up at the security camera, re-entering Talwyn’s code. Slowly, the elevator re-rumbled to life, first the lights, then the cameras and recording equipment, and then the elevator itself automatically started descending to the ground floor as it was supposed to after a power failure.

That’s when Clank realized that his current overshadowed object was clearly stamped with the PDC logo. He’d have to retake Ratchet; leaving the building would be far more suspicious.

And then the door dinged open, to about ten concerned PDC operatives. This was about to get complicated.

* * *

Ratchet gripped the handrail, startled when the elevator lurched to a halt and shuts down, until he realized that this is Clank’s doing as well, and listened carefully as Clank explained the situation.

“Someone _here_  has it in for you? Someone on the Defense Force?” He’s not asking out of disbelief, but just because he’s confused and exasperated, and angry. “Okay, I don’t care what you or Talwyn say, when we find out who’s behind this I’m gonna kick their ass.”

And seriously? They literally _just_ got done saving the planet, _again._ By now he’s given up the idea of putting the universe at rights for good, or even of retiring, but just once can’t they ever have some time to cool down from one crisis to the next?

He took another deep breath to calm down as Clank reactivated the elevator. While he’s not _against_ the idea of letting him back into his head, if there’s really no other alternative, he’s still shaken from the first experience and needs a second to think about it.

“Okay…so what do we – ?”

The doors slid open when they hit the ground floor, and, staring at the group of special ops officers waiting there, it hit Ratchet in a split second that they can’t take a PDC Zurkon off the premises. That’s definitely a red flag.

The officers, predictably, started asking questions all at once. It’s at this point that Ratchet starts thinking faster than he probably has in his whole life.

[ _Get in!_ ] He flung the thought urgently toward his friend. He’s not sure if the message will get through like this, but there wasn’t any time to lose, if they’re going to pull this off. Whether he heard or not, XJ0461 didn’t waste any time. His body went numb and once again he noticed he’s not alone inside his own head. 

The Zurkon resumed its normal programming, hovering alongside him in neutral mode.

[ _Let me do the talking. Pretty sure I outrank all of these guys. I mean, I think. I’ll have to check the employee handbook one of these days._ ]

He forced himself to take a breath, and tried to speak. It felt and sounded exactly as weird as he thought it would. Like he’s speaking inside a cavern and hearing his voice reverberating off the walls, but not hearing anything from the source, from himself. As if this whole day didn’t already feel like a bad dream.

“Where is he?!” he practically snarled, cutting the line of questioning short.

“Who?”

“You tell me. Whoever it is that just destroyed Clank!”

As famous as Clank is, it figures that most of the officers reacted with horrified shock. Ratchet gave them a moment to be awed into silence, and turns another thought toward Clank. [ _I’m just trying to get us out of here. If you can move me around, just try to follow my lead._ ] He’s going to need Clank to help him play up the angry-grieving-friend angle for this to work. Which shouldn’t be too hard, considering he _is_ mad as hell at whoever infected Clank’s systems. There’s still plenty of adrenaline there for Clank to work with.

“Put the Defense Center on lockdown. No one in, and no one out, until you have further orders from Captain Apogee, is that understood?” He had no idea whether he actually had authority to lock the Center down, so he’ll just have to deal with the bureaucratic fallout later.

“Yes, sir!”

“Spread out. Search the building and make sure nobody else got hurt, and if you find anyone where they aren’t supposed to be, throw them in cryo. You got that?”

“Yes, sir!”

As the officers dispersed and he’s finally out of the spotlight, Ratchet turned his attention toward the front door and mentally nudged Clank. [ _Go, go, go_!]

His body propelled itself out the front door, and Ratchet steered his thoughts along the walkway, until they reached a cab stop well out of view of the Planetary Defense Center.

[ _I’m gonna pay for that, aren’t I?_ ] he thought at Clank. [ _Anyway…you said we needed a secure computer that’s off the grid but would still be powerful enough to read your black box, right? What about IRIS? Or…or the Great Clock?_ ] He hoped his reluctance to visit the Great Clock doesn’t come through his thoughts too obviously; the place still makes him nervous as hell. But if it’s got the kind of systems Clank needs to find out what’s happening…

[ _At any rate, if we’re going to get off this planet unnoticed, we’d better take Perry. Aphelion’s still my duty ship._ ]

* * *

Clank looked at Ratchet the minute the door opened, eye twitching madly. Clank took it as a sign to move in, and he did. No nausea this time- he at least had a vague understanding of what he was doing- and thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was barely hanging on.

Despite the fact that he was in an organic and had no idea how to handle Ratchet’s bodily functions, he’s surprisingly comfortable, flailing angrily while Ratchet talks (and, whether the Lombax knows it or not, also **_breathes_** , thank Orvus). It’s weird for him, and completely alien, feeling Ratchet’s mouth move and tongue click around as Ratchet spoke. It’s not like when Clank talks- the jaw is really only for other organics’ sake, and he needs no tongue or lips to make the same sounds Ratchet was now making a mile a minute.

Thank goodness for all those holofilms. Clank actually studied the organics around him to understand how they moved, Ratchet no exception. The minute Ratchet commands, Clank breaks into a run, remembering to flick his tail in the opposite direction of each step for balance, something he’s keenly aware of as he’s often hit in the foot with it when Ratchet books it.

[Just so you know, and I am not sure if you were trying to think to me when we were bombarded by those operatives, but I cannot read your thoughts outside of you, nor can I just leaf through your brain- **_thank_** **_goodness_**. You have to actively be shouting something at me. Is it the same for you, or are you reading my whole mind?] Clank thought, as he lifted Ratchet’s right hand and hails a taxi.

Ratchet’s stomach growled loudly, now settled from earlier and demanding fresh tribute, and Ratchet, who now had control over his entire face, perked an ear at the sound. Clank was surprised and a bit frightened how well the two are working in unison, as he relaxed Ratchet’s (their?) tail down to a light swish, finally getting a chance to feel Ratchet’s chest gently rise and fall, smell the world around him, and feel the breeze in his exposed fur. Clank had always wondered what being an organic actually meant, and although his first experience was painful, this wasn’t so bad, actually a bit… nice. As he hopped into the taxi he wondered what Nefarious hated so much that he demanded to leave his organic body behind at all.

[We are not going to either,] Clank commented about Ratchet’s suggestions of their next steps, once they’re back at their apartment, Clank shoving a few ration blocks, a water bottle, the hard drive, and a portable commlink into a small bag before jogging up to the parking deck. Perihelion- Alister’s former ship that Clank liberated from the Great Clock; was going to have a field day making fun of the two of them, and Clank knew Ratchet’s going to need to call Talwyn on a secure line before all hell broke loose. At the very least, she’d have access to the security cameras, and might be able to pinpoint some of what had happened over the last three days.

[I cannot keep borrowing you, for one, and for two, we need to bring it to a computer that will not be in intergalactic security threat if the Trojan gets through. No, we need a computer off the HoloNet entirely, that could partition off a section of its drive for analysis and destroy that one section if a virus leaks out. Blargian technology is very well known for that; why do you think I rarely get viruses at all?]

[Ratchet, there is only one computer I can think of that is still operable and fits that description. We need to see my mother.]


	2. Perihelion

[ _If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I can hear your thoughts, either, until you actually direct them at me_.  _It’s like…like there’s a door, and you’re just cracking it open and yelling through it once in a while._ ] 

“Man, I’m hungry,” he said aloud, reflexively, hearing his stomach growl. Simultaneously, he continued thinking at XJ0461. [ _And to be honest, if there’s some kind of block there, that’s fine with me._ ] They may have been pretty much inseparable for the past twelve years, but he’s still got secrets he’d rather not involuntarily broadcast, and he’s sure Clank does, as well.

[ _Did I mention this is the weirdest day ever and I need a drink?_ ]

He’s okay with letting Clank drive, steering his body around the apartment and packing for the trip, because it turns out that sending his thoughts to someone else is _really_ hard work and he’s already exhausted. 

[ _Your mother? Do you think she’d – oh, hey, get the O2 mask out from under the seat. Orxon’s air might be a little cleaner by now, but we’re not doing a field test. And do you – um, do you want to bring something along to…jump over into, like that Zoni plush? If you need a break from being in here? ‘Cause I’m actually okay, for now at least, but this can’t be easy for you._ ]

As Perihelion’s AI system came online, he addressed the ship out loud. “Hi, Perry. Okay, quick version: Clank’s robot chassis caught some sort of virus and now it’s destroyed. He’s okay, but he’s inside my head. Insert your wisecrack here. We need somewhere safe to check out his hard drive and figure out who did this, so we’re going to use the computer at the factory that built him, in the Solana Galaxy. If you need to talk to Clank, then….uh, maybe he can talk through me? Which is going to be super creepy, but if he can do it, okay.” He started plotting a course for Orxon and put the gravimetric warp drive on standby. [ _Can you do that? And if you, can you give me a lot of advance warning first because I’m not sure how much more crazy I can take today._ ]

* * *

 

[I probably can,] Clank replied, before changing the destination from Orxon to Quartu, overriding Ratchet’s control of his hand to fix the coordinates, and adding in his sentry bot security code when the output issues a warning. [Although I am not sure how easy it will be for me to talk with an actual mouth. If you were not here, I am not sure I would even be able to **_breathe_**. You are doing all of the actual heavy lifting, which may explain your exhaustion. And forgetfulness,] he added, after the screen showed his birthplace in detail. [The O2 mask is still a good idea for you, however. Mother has mentioned that the air is thinning there, and quite rapidly, by the sounds of her last correspondence. When the Blarg left, they took their atmospheric generators with them. Only inorganics can walk on the surface unassisted now.]

Clank pulled out the Zoni plush from the duffel bag slung unceremoniously in the tiny cargo space behind, and hearing Ratchet’s stomach rumble again, a ration block and one of Ratchet’s favorite fancy birch beers from the minifridge that Clank had stocked in case the two of them needed to get out of Dodge in a hurry- Clank figured if they needed to run, Ratchet at least deserved something he liked already there to come with them. He dumped the plush in the copilot’s seat, the rest on Ratchet’s lap.

Clank laughed internally; now that Ratchet knows they’re there, the next time Clank uses Perry he’s going to find that fridge empty.

Clank tried taking a few deep breaths of his own- he’s surprised at how calm he is. Clank is always running a million calculations a minute, but inside Ratchet, well, it isn’t as though his mind is entirely blank, but it’s a million times quieter. No multitasking, no background processes… Clank didn’t realize how high strung he was. Maybe that’s why being inside Ratchet is so much less taxing than overshadowing another robot.

His own body, that he **_knows_**. Non-computers or robot inorganics (like the plush) are hard, just because he’s basically using them to hold on; he has to think in pulses to talk and see, and manipulate his own energy- his own self, essentially, to lift or move anything, which is very draining. And inhabiting another computer or robot involves learning all of their processes on the fly, being mindful that he doesn’t want his own self leaking into a backup of the device.

Comparatively speaking, Ratchet is easy.

But he won’t tell his friend that he’d rather stay in there than jump to the plush; it is Ratchet’s body and space, so, after buckling the toy into the copilot’s seat- not for safety, but so if the antigrav goes off he doesn’t get flung around the cabin- and jumps in, doing his best to stretch to fill the toy and settle.

It’s numb, and muffled, and he can only really ‘see’ by pushing some of his energy out in small pulses, but it gives his friend his space back and, hopefully, his mother can make him another duplicate, a hope he knows is unlikely given his parts would now be more than a decade old. Maybe he should look into some of the Zoni made armor… there’s usually one- or a small colony of them- anywhere they go, even when Ratchet (or any organic, really) can’t notice them. One of them would at least be able to find him **_something_** he could use.

For now, he let Perry and Ratchet do the flying. They’d be at Quartu soon enough with some-

BZZZZZT.

“I believe that is Talwyn,” Clank boomed. “You may wish to answer that.”

* * *

 

[ ** _Quartu._** _Duh. How did I – ? Oh, nice. Thank you,_ ] he thought when he sees the birch beer; that’ll certainly take some of the edge off the ration bar’s relentless horribleness. He watched Clank steer his hands around the Zoni figure, buckling it up, and felt himself taking a few deep breaths without trying. Yeah. Maybe at some point he’ll get over how weird it is not to –

He gasped, startled, as something snapped in his mind; his limbs tingled painfully and his head ached as his body came back under his full control. “Ow,” he mumbled out loud, holding on to his head for a moment before the call came in. Clank’s voice sounded strange, as it always does coming from the Zoni, but at least it sounds like _him_ – only less canned, more rich and alive – instead of plain, simple, voiceless words in his head.

“Right. Just hope she’s not too mad.” He pressed the comm button. “Hello?”

_“Ratchet! I leave the Defense Center to you for one morning, and when I come back, you’ve locked it down?!”_

He winced, ears dropping. “Hey, Tal. Uh – how was your meeting with President Phyronix?”

_“Fine. What’s going on?! The staff are saying they’re waiting from orders from me! Tell me why I can’t order them to go back to business as usual. We’re still trying to clean up the mess from the invasion, we don’t need this.”_

“I know, I know. Sorry, I…it’s kind of a long story, but quick version: someone’s after Clank. Someone hacked into his system, and tried to use it to kill me and Clank’s soul. And Clank thinks the attack came from inside. From someone on the Defense Force.”

Predictably, there’s a few moments of dead air.

“…Tal?”

A heavy sigh from her.  _“Okay, uh – are you all right? Is Clank all right? Is he still with you, or – ?”_

* * *

 

“Perihelion?” Clank pulsed at his ship, through his very energy. Ratchet’s fur stood on end from the static electricity, but it was something he knew his partner couldn’t hear.

“It’s secure. I was a dogfighter,” Perihelion replied through the internal wireless, the usual gruffness gone. “Want me to pan the camera?”

Clank nodded, regretting the decision immediately as he was just… burned out. He wanted his own chassis, and then go find a bucket and some hot oil and soak for a few hours in peace. The last time he’d done so… Cronk and Zephyr had still been operational and-

“Clank…?” He heard Talwyn ask nervously. “Why is there a stuffed animal sitting in his seat?”

“It is me, Miss Apogee,” Clank replied wearily. “My chassis has been terminated. Durning the invasion- at least this is the conclusion- I had been infected with a Trojan. I snapped back to consciousness coated in Markazian blood, and then my chassis began to act of its own volition. As you know, I am Zoni, so I pushed my soul into the nearest electrical equipment. When the virus-infected- chassis  heard me warning Ratchet to duck, it immediately fired upon the terminal then checked to see if I were in any other equipment.”

“It’s programming or its operator wrongly assumed that I had wirelessly beamed my backup into the nearest device. Meanwhile, I was simply floating in the conference room overhead. The programming, satisfied that I did not have the opportunity to move from that computer anywhere else in the mainframe- assumed I had been terminated and returned attention to Ratchet. The shots were deliberate near hits. The virus wanted to put Ratchet in the position of having to destroy my chassis entirely. The Mr. Zurkon sentries took care of that- all of this should still be on the security footage.”

“Ratchet escaped with my soul and my black box- the Blarg did do a great job of building those. We are going somewhere to decrypt it in peace, and possibly get me a new robotic shell. Hopefully.”

Clank took a moment to compare himself, pulsing warmly from the toy. He spied Ratchet’s tail draped behind him, hanging with a slight kink from the side of the seat, shaking. Clank knew that tic; Ratchet’s nerves had finally caught up with him. Nanotech now, but he’d likely need a good dose of Perihelion’s cryo later, muscle relaxant, and an actual real meal- hot. Clank quickly pulsed in Perihelion, taking stock of where he had left supplies, pulling a few vials of nanotech near him, accidentally yanking one too quickly and smashing it against Perry’s dashboard. The nanites didn’t jump towards Ratchet, though.

They jumped towards the plush instead.

Clank had, on rare occasion, received nanotech to fix himself. It wasn’t really designed for robotic life, and was really a patch at best. Ratchet was his best way to get a repair- or Big Al, but he just liked Ratchet looking out for him even though Al had better tools.

But out of his chassis, the nanotech was warm, comforting, and took the edge off. It wasn’t a real rest, but the nanites read his composition and fed him tiny pulses that filled his energy body with… well, energy. Clank smashed a few more vials until both he and Ratchet had been filled, a few tinkling sparks of blue bouncing on the bottom of the cabin.

Clank looked back at Talwyn. “We are… a bit worse for wear. We would like to leave it at that for now, and fill you in when we can.”

Talwyn closed her eyes and pursed her lips tightly. “Thanks. I’ll… I’ll watch the tapes and see if there’s anything I can get out of them. You two just be safe. I’m going to wipe Aphelion’s flight logs from the systems if you need her for some reason. Just… just don’t do anything stupid. That’s my job.”

Talwyn ended the call, and Clank settled, annoyed, in the seat. He wanted out of the toy, sooner the better, and he disliked seeing Ratchet unwell even more, even though he felt more comfortable in there than in he plush.  

“Before you ask,” Clank added, as Perry geared for a wormhole jump to Solana, “no, I do not think Talwyn should know that I can possess organic forms as well. She is going to try and corner and leverage that she knows I am still quote-unquote backed up somewhere. I would rather have a safe escape route into you if our assailant starts tracking us again.”

Clank softened his tone. “The nanotech helped me, albeit just a little. You became far more ragged looking when I vacated you. I am so sorry to have drained you. It is only fair I compensate. Hold out your hand; I am going to infuse a little Zoni energy to you. You are not saying no- I need both of us aware for what is to come, and any Zoni on Quartu could top me off if needed. We should be landing soon, and we need to both be ready.”

“From what I understand, until it wears off, you may even have a little of my power as well. Sigmund was surprisingly able to teleport short distances for almost a day after a Zoni decided to house in him during their hide and seek games in the Clock, and was also able to levitate small objects toward him. Any advantage we can glean I wish to take.”

* * *

 

Now that he’s out of the camera’s line of sight, Ratchet slumped back in his seat and listened, tail twitching nervously, as Clank summed up the whole fiasco for Talwyn. Everything’s happened so fast that Clank’s detailed and organized explanation helps him better comprehend the weight of the situation they’re in. Doesn’t make him feel much better, though. The sudden dose of nanites doesn’t make him feel less exhausted, either – even if it does make him feel less like he got hit by a train.

Then again, at least he got to stay in his own body this whole time. He can’t even imagine what Clank’s going through.

“We won’t do anything stupid unless we get the okay from you,” he replied as Talwyn concluded her call. “And be careful, okay, Tal?”

He checked that Perry’s on autopilot, and leaned his forehead against the yoke. “Yeah, I’m not going to tell her. She’s probably in enough danger now. And look, if you need to – if we have another life-or-death emergency, just hop over, okay? I’ll probably be expecting it by then, and I don’t want to see you get hurt because you were waiting for permission.”

When Clank told him he’s getting a shot of Zoni energy, he didn’t argue, but held out his hand resignedly, expecting everything to go numb again. But it has the exact opposite effect, tingling in his nerves and instantly making him feel more awake. _Too_ awake, like adrenaline just got injected into his system out of nowhere. He grabbed the yoke again to steady himself and catch his breath. “Hoo, boy – okay,” he sighed as he adjusted to the elevated heart rate, just trying not to go through the roof of the ship. Could this day get any weirder?

Um, yes. Yes, it could because now Clank was now surrounded by a glowing circular aura he’s never seen before. Side effect, probably. “Okay,” he panted again, feeling a little more level-headed once he catches his breath. “So, um, you don’t constantly feel like you just slammed a whole pallet of energy dr – “

Perry lurched as he dove into the wormhole, and all sound and light ceased to exist for about half a second before he burst through the other side, into the Solana galaxy, instantaneously slowing down as the warp drives disengaged. Ratchet waited for them to coast back down to FTL speeds before plotting a course for Quartu.

“You okay?” he asked Clank. He means after the wormhole jump, but he absolutely also meant in general. Without that robot chassis and its usual set of signals and alerts, it’s hard to tell what kind of state he’s in. There’s the glowing, but that’s just weird and he has no idea what that’s all about.

* * *

 

“I **_am_**  an entire pallet of energy drinks,” Clank quipped back, good naturedly as Perihelion ducked through the wormhole. He needed that edge removed; today had already been rough and Clank, no longer inhabiting a robot, was beginning to feel a deep pang of **_hunger_**. He wasn’t going to drain Perry off, but hopefully his mother had some extra solar cores he could drink from.

“I am fine, though,” Clank replied. “Or as ‘fine’ as I can possibly be, given circumstance. You, on the other hand, may wish to tighten your seat belt. The artificial gravity is on full force, but you are floating a few centicubits off your seat.” Clank laughed as Ratchet looked down, finally noticing.

“There was a secondary reason for my offer, Ratchet, and it was one I was not sure would work. For all intents and purpose, you are a Zoni until it wears off. In other words, you should neither show up on bioscans as Lombax nor trip my mother’s automated security systems, even though, to a non-Zoni, you should still look the same as normal. We can walk right in through the front door. Probably.”

Clank cocked the plush sideways a little. “Or float, until you learn how to keep that in check. Out of curiosity, can you see my true form leaking out of the edges? Your own pulse of energy has changed from a deep red to a lighter purple, yourself. Or, more that there are thin lines of your red and my blue intertwined all over.”

Perihelion landed on Quartu with a gentle thud, and Clank floated Ratchet’s O2 mask to him. “Keep this on; atmospheric pressure is nearly gone. You may want a full space suit.”

Clank heard a light rapping on the windshield behind him as he had turned to assist Ratchet, turning around to see a small gaggle of Zoni just outside, waving in. “Oh, and, by the way, Ratchet, is there anything unusual you see on the planet’s surface?”


	3. Quartu

Ah. So it wasn’t just his imagination, he was about to go through the roof. He cinched the seatbelt to keep himself down.

He wasn’t even really surprised when Clank let him know he’s temporarily part Zoni, although he does reflexively glance at his hands, almost expecting them to look different as a result. They don’t, apart from the violet aura that his friend was pointing out. “Yeah, I see it. That’s freaky,” was all he can say to that, and that’s said very calmly. Maybe because Zoni have some kind of inner peace that he’s picking up on. Or maybe, far more likely, he’s too wiped out to be shocked by anything. At this point if Clank said “I am your father,” Ratchet would probably just nod and go with it.

He strapped the oxygen mask on – fumbling with it a few times because his hands kept trying to rise up toward the ceiling. “Uh…” He glanced out the windshield. “Well, there’s a few Zoni out there. And a lot of glowing lines. Other than that…?”

The space suit was even harder to manage, but somehow he wriggled into it, and, quickly checking the pressure and the life support systems, he left the cockpit and stepped out onto the planet.

Or floated, more accurately. Zero-gravity environments aren’t exactly new to him, and this feels like being in one – only with much better control over his movements. “Okay, well, this isn’t half bad,” he said, turning back to the glowing blue presence following him out of the ship. 

* * *

 

“Good,” Clank replied, following him out of the ship.

The Zoni on Quartu have now begun to converge around them, rolling lazily and monotoning ‘Sire’.

“By the way, the fact you can see both the Zoni and the planet’s ley-lines was what I was looking for. When they fade, your powers will begin to cease. Please let me know when they do so long as we are on Quartu. I do not wish to see you suddenly shot at by the sentries the Blarg still left here. The new ones created by my mother should not bother you, even when they recognize you as who you really are- for obvious reasons. I do not think you have ever returned here after that last incident, have you?”

A few Zoni squeaked, noting the low energy levels of both Ratchet and Clank, offering pulses in reply to help replenish their energy. “Please,” Clank asked moving towards them, and they began to infuse him with some of their lifeforce. Almost immediately, Clank felt less weary, warmer, lighter. “Do not give my partner any, unless he asks,” Clank admonished, when two of the group went over to offer to Ratchet. 

“He is running on empty, we will not leave a Brother to perish,” one said, before circling Ratchet and nodding, realizing that it was Ratchet, and not a Zoni. “No. You have marked him. He is not Zoni. We understand, Sire.”

Clank pulsed a few times, energy renewed. He knew it wouldn’t last long; he was leaking his own energy in radiation way too quickly. He needed a proper housing, and fast.

“Where is Sire’s shell?” another set asked in uncomfortable unison, as they followed in a curious group behind Ratchet and Clank as they all floated towards the plant. “Sire will dissipate into the aether if he does not have a shell.”

No matter how much he tried, the Zoni hive-mind of the worker-bee Zoni made Clank uncomfortable. Tell one thing to one of them, and they all knew, which is why these Zoni, who had never met Ratchet or Clank before themselves, knew exactly who they were.

“Destroyed,” Clank said simply, not waning to say too much too them. In about five minutes he knew Sigmund was going to call, freaking out once the Zoni back in the Clock began repeating it to each other on loop. ** _’Sire’s shell has been destroyed. Sire requires a new shell….’_**

Clank could practically hear it in his head.

“We can arrange a new shell for Sire,” they droned, as the small entourage neared the entrance of the facility.

“That is partially why we are here,” Clank replied, but the Zoni had already ignored him.

“An organic is the best shell, but will eventually perish. We need to inhabit new ones every hundred years,” one replied.

If Clank could do a spit-take, he would be, and was already losing too much energy to see Ratchet’s own reaction.

“Wait… your shells are not armor or robotic?” Clank asked, after a moment, looking away from the lock outside the facility, opening on its own anyway as his Mother saw them approach on her cameras.

“We wear armor over our shells, but the shells themselves are cloned from Father,” they replied. “We are as You, Sire, a condense of energy our of our own shells.”

Clank had seen it before when the Zoni powered up an object; the shells disappeared and only a blue orb remained. He thought they were… killing themselves, until he learned that Zoni could re-coalesce.

“You are the only one, Sire, who wears a robot as a shell.”

And suddenly the calmness inside Ratchet made a whole lot more sense. Now Clank **_really_**  did not want to consider the options. Hopefully his mother could just make him a new chassis and he could forget the whole thing. Permanently possessing an organic body just didn’t sit right with him, cloned or otherwise.

“Ratchet, let us just get to Mother and give her the black box. I am glad I currently possess no stomach, as for some reason I feel quite ill-”

Clank was cut off by another infusion of Zoni energy. 

 ** _Joy_**.

The combination of disgust and continuous radiation leakage was really draining Clank. He needed a new, proper home, and quickly. The infusion put some spring back in his metaphorical step, but he wasn’t feeling well, and was starting to drag along the ground, losing momentum.

But why was he draining off so fast? He’d been in the plush for about ten hours straight before without any major issues, the time that Ratchet had been very upset, and even radiated warmth all night to soothe his friend. Here, he was practically feeding off an IV drip of support energy and it hadn’t even been five hours time.

Was it that part of him had been in his now destroyed chassis?

“Ratchet, I am not asking for permission this time. Please let me in before I… lose the ability to hold on to anything.”

* * *

 

Ratchet floated along with Clank and the group of Zoni toward the plant. As it turns out, floating is a little like hoverbooting, but even easier; he only has to shift his weight very slightly. He mostly stayed quiet, letting Clank converse with the Zoni. That’s how he noticed yet another effect of being part Zoni – he can hear them in his head now, too. There’s not really a better way to describe it – like when Clank was there at the PDC, he’s not hearing voices in his ears, just plain words in his head. It’s unnerving, to say the least.

_Sire will dissipate into the aether if he does not have a shell._

**_Oh_**. That’s great. There goes the impression (the _very reassuring impression_ ) that Clank’s soul can exist indefinitely without being attached to anything. He found himself glancing over at the blue light, afraid to find it fading. – And it was. _Super._ Clank’s mom can’t get him into a new chassis soon enough. She _could_ do that, right? Right…?

As they entered the plant, he noticed, with an even stronger twinge of fear, that the blue light was practically dragging along the ground. He knew XJ0461 was in immediate danger of being lost forever, even before he spoke to him – and _how_ he knows that is a mystery. He didn’t appear to have even enough energy to make the jump into his mind. Ratchet had to get him there himself, and he had no idea how to do that. 

He reached out toward Clank.

Apparently that did the trick. The blue orb disappeared and, like before, every nerve in his body switched off. This time, though, the presence in his head is very, very weak – it felt like a dream he just woke up from and is desperately trying to remember. It’s definitely not strong enough to take control of his body. 

…And neither was he. He was aware of his body dropping to the plant floor, practically lifeless without any impulse from him or Clank. He panicked, tried to move, blink, breathe, do _anything._ But he’s totally disconnected. The undercurrents of exterior thought in his head, the words of the Zoni, whatever Clank might be saying now, all faded into white noise. _Everything_ faded.

He’s going to die. Even his own thoughts were becoming slow and shallow, like dying breaths, but somehow he desperately flung one out toward the Zoni that he knows are still out there, before the void consumes him. 

_[  H  e  l  p       u  s   – ]_

_[      ]_

Although he’s largely unaware of it, his panic rippled through the whole of the Zoni hivemind, momentarily interrupting its flow like a wayward radio signal before the calm unison of simple words reasserted itself, and the Zoni surrounded him and do exactly what Clank told them not to do earlier.

Ratchet gasped, convulsively, opening his eyes and found himself surrounded by Zoni. Oh. Good. He _could_ gasp. He could breathe again. And move. His body gently lifted itself off the floor and hovered again, but beyond that it looked like he’s back in charge. He’s breathless and shaken, and every strand of fur was on end, and boy he just knows he’s going to have some _riveting_ nightmares about this in the future, but otherwise he’s okay.

But where’s – 

“Clank!” he burst out, aloud, practically out of force of habit at this point.

There’s a very faint pulse in the back of his mind. Clank’s still there. Barely. 

He sighed, just a little relieved. “Okay, good. Look, buddy, I don’t know if you can hear me, and I don’t know  _how_ I screwed that up that so bad. I’m sorry. Just try to hang in there, okay? I swear I’m gonna get you out of this mess, one way or another.”

 _[Can you do something for him?_ ] he asked of the Zoni as he continues on, trying hard to remember where Clank’s mother was. It has been years since he visited, after all. [ _Keep him from fading out while he’s in my head? Or is there a way I can do it? I’m one of you for now, right? I mean, I’m floating, for crying out loud. What else can I do?_ ]

* * *

 

Clank barely registered what was happening, and almost wished he hadn’t ordered the Zoni to keep shooting pure energy into Ratchet- all it would do would prolong his Zoni-fied state. But now, he- no, both- of them needed it.

Clank felt his body gasping for air- wait, no, he realized, as his consciousness began to awaken- this was Ratchet’s body. Clank weakly pulsed in Ratchet’s mind, letting him know he was there, if not entirely.

It was dark, but warm, and he felt the fabric of Ratchet’s spacesuit against his fur, his chest rise and fall with each breath. Ratchet was pained, as if he’d just been struggling for air, but as his breathing evened out Clank slowly began to take stock of the world around him. He had all of Ratchet’s senses, but zero control, and just let his soul sit comfortably in Ratchet’s greater consciousness as he recovered, Zoni continuing to zap Ratchet with juice in a steady rhythm.

**_…Ratchet?_ **

Clank thought to Ratchet, feeling Ratchet’s tail flick. Good, he could communicate.

**_I am just going to sit here for now, but you need to take that left up ahead. You see how most of the pathways are dark? Mother is turning on the lights in the path we need to go._ **

Clank noted Ratchet’s body shift as they turned following the factory illumination towards his mother, eventually reaching the central operations room. Clank felt Ratchet’s mouth dry up as they entered the chamber; she’d had the maintenance bots do extensive modifications after the Blarg had retreated off the planet.

 **WHERE IS MY SON?** she typed up on the main console. Ratchet shakily took the black box from a pocket in the suit. Clank’s mother dropped a crane arm from the ceiling, deftly retrieving the piece of equipment before typing again.

**WHILE USEFUL, I MEANT MY SON, NOT A PIECE OF HIS CHASSIS. I STOPPED BEING ABLE TO DETECT HIS UNIQUE ZONI SIGNATURE ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO.**

Ratchet sheepishly pointed at himself. Clank didn’t like it; the feeling that ’his’ limbs were moving on their own. The additional tactile awareness wasn’t helping matters.

**WELL, THEN. THERE IS LITTLE I CAN DO, OTHER THAN READ HIS FORMER DRIVE. HIS FATHER WARNED ME THAT IF A ZONI POSSESSES AN ORGANIC FORM, THEY BIND.**

Clank felt Ratchet’s tail puff up in agitation, followed immediately by embarrassment. Clank understood- he wouldn’t want someone invading his personal sanctum, either, but at the same time, if it was between Ratchet or nonexist-

Clank’s mother must have noticed Ratchet’s disdain, even from inside the suit.

**THE ZONI ALL BOUND TO THEIR FATHER, SO HE CLONED HIS BODY WITHOUT A SOUL FOR THEM. YOU COULD DO THE SAME, THAT IS, IF YOU DO NOT MIND MY SON SHARING YOUR FACE.**

**AT THE VERY LEAST, I CAN MAKE HIM A COPY OF HIS OLD CHASSIS FOR NOW AND SEE IF HE CAN RE-INHABIT IT ONCE HIS STRENGTH RETURNS, THOUGH I AM NOT PARTICULARLY HOPEFUL. AT THE BARE MINIMUM, HE SHOULD BE ABLE TO INHABIT IT FOR SET PERIODS OF TIME.**

Two more crane arms descended from the nest of wires and parts of Clank’s mother, most above and on the ceiling, pulling apart the last remaining intact piece of Clank

**IT WILL TAKE ME AT LEAST A FEW HOURS TO SAFELY PARTITION MY DRIVE SO THAT I CAN READ THIS, LIKELY A WEEK STANDARD FOR FULL ANALYSIS. MY PERSONAL OPINION IS GIVING YOU A COPY OF HIS CHASSIS TO TRY AND FINDING A… MORE PERMANENT ALTERNATIVE? I CAN KEEP YOU INFORMED AS I CRACK THE DRIVE. OH! AND HERE.**

Clank’s mother opened up a slot in one of her drawers, a brand new copy of Clank’s chassis ready to be picked up and carried off.

**_Well, it looks as though we have some work to do, Ratchet…_ **

* * *

 

“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll keep in touch,” Ratchet said aloud, picking up the new chassis. It may look weird and unsettling at the moment, with silent drives, retracted limbs, and optics powered off; but things felt a little less hopeless now that they’ve got this. 

[ _I guess you know how to get back in there,_ ] he thought at Clank’s soul. [ _But don’t try to jump in yet. Stay here until…as long as you need to,_ ] he quickly corrected his train of thought, trying not to let on that now that he knows there’s a possibility of being stuck like this forever, he’s – well, less than comfortable with this arrangement. But there’s no telling what’ll happen to Clank if he lfet Ratchet’s head right now. He’s just going to have to accept the risk, because if it’s a choice between that or losing his friend, well, then his choice is clear.

Wait, Clank wasn’t hearing all of that, was he?

Halfway back to the ship bay, the NAV unit started beeping. Ratchet kept floating as he answered the call, expecting it to be Talwyn.

“ **Ratchet! Thank Orvus someone finally picked up! I’ve been trying to reach Clank for hours and I haven’t got so much as a busy signal! The Zoni say his shell blew up – what did you do?! You tried to outfit him with that meson flux chip didn’t you?! I _told_ you you’d fry his circuits if you tried to install that – !”**

“Sigmund!” Ratchet burst out when he can finally get a word in edgewise with the panicking Senior Caretaker of the Great Clock. “Calm down, okay? Clank’s chassis _was_ destroyed, _but_ we’re working on it – ”

**“Lemme talk to him, where is he?”**

“He’s – ” Ratchet paused, wondering whether he can just let Clank talk through him, and decides against it. Not only would it be _really_ weird, he doesn’t want Clank to wear himself out in the attempt. “He’s safe, for now. Um – he says hi.” And he quickly explained the situation to Sigmund; how Clank’s chassis was hijacked and subsequently destroyed, how he’s currently sheltering inside Ratchet’s mind, and how they got a new version to try and get Clank back into. “So, you know, it could have been worse,” he finished.

 **“Of course it could have! The universe could have imploded! How’s that make it any better?!** ” Sigmund hovered around the holographic field like he’s pacing, clearly one click away from panic.  **“Look, just – get to the Great Clock ASAP, okay? We’ll get him back in there one way or another.”**

“His mother says he has to regain his strength first,” Ratchet said doubtfully.

 **“Well, yeah, but if he’s centered in the universe we might be able to cut his recovery down from a few _aeons_ to a few weeks. And in any case, I’m gonna need to reinstall his quantum actuator and recalibrate him. All my fine work!” **he sighed mournfully.

“Got it. We’ll meet you at the Clock.”

**“Make it snappy!”**

Ratchet hung up and walked into the ship bay – and his heart lept into his throat when he realized he’s _walking_ , not floating. He looked around, remembering too late what Clank told him about the planet’s ley lines. They’re fading. 

The Zoni were _withdrawing_. Why?! Were they going on ahead to the Clock? Didn’t they realize that Clank still needs –

With the current of Zoni bioenergy rapidly weakening, Ratchet, who was more or less entirely dependent on it for the last half hour, suddenly felt weak and dizzy. It hurt to breathe. Hell, it hurt to _think._ What did he do now?! What _does_ he do now?!

It’s hard to form a coherent thought, so he just tried to concentrate on Clank, trying to figure out whether he’s still there and okay. If he were, Ratchet can’t hear him.

Somehow he forced himself to keep moving, fumbling with Perihelion’s power locks and dragging himself into the cockpit. Perry said something as he crawled into the pilot’s seat, but he can’t understand it. It took all of his strength to stretch his hand out for the navigation controls, and all of his willpower and focus to key in coordinates for the Core Relay. 

Ratchet just barely managed to pant, “Th-the Clock. Get us to the Clock,” and tugged on the autopilot switch before he sunk back in his seat and lost consciousness.


	4. The Clock

Yet again, today, Clank regained consciousness gasping for air.

This time, though, something was dif-

 ** _Oh_**.

The edges of his whole body felt cold and numb, and a tube was forced down his throa- Ratchet's throat.

That's right. He was still inside Ratchet.

But he didn't have the far off feeling of someone moving him around- so he was in control. They both must have passed out; the cold twinge was the tail end of waking from cryosleep.

Clank took a few deep breaths, and took stock of the situation. His brand new replacement chassis was sitting next to him, good. Perihelion was humming- a nervous tic he'd developed whenever Ratchet, Clank, or both entered his cockpit in a bad way- or maybe it was because of his previous owner's rash behavior setting it off (very likely Alister's fault, but…).

When he knew they'd be fine he'd chastise them to hell, but if there were a problem, a REAL one, he'd hum to calm his circuits.

Clank slowly took stock of Ratchet's body, breathing deeply, flexing his fingers and toes. The front shield of Ratchet's helmet had been popped open for Perihelion's oxygen tube, but he was still in the stifling spacesuit. Clank felt… soreness, he thought, or pain. Adrenaline had prevented him from it the first time he'd stolen Ratchet, but now that he'd been belted in, doing little more than breathing along with the mechanical oxygen pump, he really felt... just  ** _bad_**. Clank blinked a few times, and finally began to shift in the seat.

"You're awake," Perihelion said gently, flicking one of his cameras towards Ratchet to check the situation. "Sorry 'bout gassin' the whole cabin; I can't move you to the pullout in the copilot's seat. Your vitals are still too high, so I'm keepin' the monitors on you and the tube in you 'till we reach the Clock, kit. You have any idea how hard it is to pop open a space helmet when your only analogue for a hand is that tube shoved down your gullet? Don't scare me like that again or I'll male sure you  ** _need_**  a tube to breathe."

Clank nodded. Good. If Perihelion was being an asshole, his vitals had at least started to normalize.

"You want to move not-Clank to the storage area and shift over to the copilot's seat so I can cryo you proper?" Clank nodded, and Perihelion slowly withdrew the oxygen tube for the breathing mask to follow. "All right, kit, you know the drill."

Clank shook his head, and opened his mouth to say "no", but no sound came out. He hadn't tried to speak as Ratchet before; what was he doing wrong? He moved his jaw again, up and down, thinking 'no'.

 ** _Great_**.

Speaking as an organic wasn't anything like speaking as a robot, Clank realized. He'd have to have someone teach him how, especially since he couldn't simply run through a databank to learn in Ratchet's mind. Instead, he pointed frantically down at his own new chassis.

"Oh, Clank, then?" Perihelion asked. "Is Ratchet okay?"

That… was a good question. Clank closed Ratchet's eyes, pulsing in Ratchet's mind. A faint pulse in reply. This time, Ratchet was weak. He seemed to be 'there'… maybe unconscious? Either way, it didn't look good. Clank needed his own permanent form, and Ratchet his own back. Clank frowned and wiggled his hand to try and convey 'somewhat' to Perihelion.

"Hm," Perihelion replied gruffly. "Well, shift over… can you shift over? Oh, and take that helmet off completely."

Clank nodded yes, and slid into the copilot's seat, mindful of Ratchet's tail, yet another piece of Ratchet that he didn't quite know what to do with.

Perihelion reclined the seat into a bed, and pulled the shield up around him. "It's about three hours, toaster," Perihelion commented, dryly. "Take the breathing mask that drops and put it over your face. Breathe in through your nose and out through the mouth. I'll adjust the gas as needed. Normally I'd wake Ratchet up for landing, but I'll wake you up when we arrive at the Clock."

Ah, the  ** _Clock_**. Talk about a heck of a trip today. Maybe it was Ratchet's exhaustion catching up as well.

Clank took the mask as instructed, and pulled it down over Ratchet's muzzle. With the first puff of gas, Perihelion spoke. "First dose to make you calm and drowsy. Doin' all right?"

Clank felt  ** _good_**. Eery muscle relaxed and the smell… Ratchet had mentioned to him before that Perihelion's tanks smelled of mint. Is that what mint smelled like? It was nice, cool, crisp and sharp.

And Ratchet seemed to notice. Clank could feel Ratchet's presence warming up, a hilarity because with the next puff of gas, Clank was barely awake. He took another breath and-

"Clank! Clankclankclankclankclank!"

Clank blinked, hearing a sharp rap on the cockpit window. Sigmund, of course. And… it was faint, but Clank could see the outline of a small group of Zoni surrounding the bot.

That was reassuring.

Clank could feel Ratchet, still, though there was no attempt at communication. Slowly, Clank blinked the crust out of his eyes, and pulled the mask off. Perihelion popped the cryoshelid, and raised the bed back into a seat.

"Don' forget to drink some water, you two," Perihelion gruffed as Clank sat up, stretching. "An' use the bathroom," he added laughing.

Clank squinted angrily. He knew about organic bodily functions, thank you. Actually  ** _performing_**  them was a different matter, but he at least knew they existed and what fluids came or left from where.

Clank finally popped the airlock, and Sigmund immediately tried to enter their ship.

"RatchetisClankdoingokayhowareyoucanIgetyousomefooddoesPerryneed-"

Clank squinted again, putting his arms up in front of his chest in an X shape, pointed at himself, then at the chassis behind him, before reaching out and putting Ratchet's hand directly over Sigmund's speaker, located just below his right optic.

"Oh. Clank! Hi!" Sigmund said brightly but muffled under the hand.

Clank removed his hand, waving, and attempting to smile. It… hurt a little, to his surprise.

"You gonna say hi, XJ?" Sigmund asked, cocking his head and raising a brow.

"Don't know how on an organic," Perihelion supplied.

"Ah," Sigmund said, dropping his panic level from fire engine red to an agitated vermillion. "C'mon, being twice your height can't be easy for you to walk. Lean on me and let's see about getting you out of there."

~X~

Clank sat awkwardly on one of the sofas in the main AV room in Sector Three, Sigmund pacing (or, more accurately, floating) back and forth.

"You need a new body. That chassis will work- maybe even for days at a time- but you need a permanent housing. And, since you've bound yourself to Ratchet… I'm not sure we can just send you to Sector Eleven and fit you with a Zoni shell and armor. Worse… unless you waste some of your energy, Ratchet or other organics- hey, even most bots- wouldn't even be able to SEE you…"

Every time Sigmund made a pass around the AV room, he stopped in the center at an old desk to drop some more bits and pieces around Clank's chassis.

Clank sat with a keypad in his lap, ticking out words by pecking at them with pointer fingers. Five fingers per hand were a bit too much to deal with. When he pressed send, the pleasant AI of the facility read them aloud for Sigmund.

The second time today (or was it already tomorrow, galactic standard?) that Clank's voice was provided by a female.

"Are you suggesting we clone Ratchet? Without his permission?"

Sigmund rubbed his hands on his dome. "Other option is you jump into the chassis," he mutters, tapping at it with his hand-torch, " ** _hope_**  he regains consciousness in time to give consent, and do the exact same thing. Either way, you're going to need an organic body to jump back to, and one your soul  _won't_  reject at that. This isn't going to hold you for the rest of eternity anymore."

"Why did you fail to tell me this would happen?" Clank typed, annoyed at the AI for not putting emphasis on 'tell' like he'd hoped.

"Because I didn't know you could leave your chassis! Like at  ** _all_**! Orvus said you were his son;  ** _all_**  these Zoni are his children. I thought the emphasis meant you were different than them."

"I still insist on trying to contact Ratchet first. If he does not respond before I feel as though I have to snap back, then we go forward on our own. I am not making this decision alone. Are you done with the upgrades, Sigmund?"

"I concur with the former Caretaker," the AI pipes in on her own once she reads out Clank's words.

"Outnumbered. As usual," Sigmund sighed, but it wasn't of resignation but understanding, with a wry smile added in for good measure. "Juuuuust about done, hold on." Clank heard whirring, taking the opportunity to rotate Ratchet's ears toward the sound like an antenna tuning for a connection, and listened with surprising clarity at Sigmund's alterations.

"Okay. You should be good if you feel comfortable hopping in. Professional opinion is don't, but I know this is a losing battle."

"Thank you," Clank typed, trying to smile again. "Oh, and you will probably need to point Ratchet to a restroom as soon as he wakes," he adds, noting the awkward sloshing in Ratchet's abdomen. That, or Ratchet was hungry. Maybe both. The Lombax has an impressive metabolism.

Clank evens out Ratchet's breathing to a methodical pace; he remembered that every time prior Ratchet was gulping for oxygen from the transition. This should help.

In. Out. In. Out.

Ears settling downwards, Eyelids closing.

When he was ready, he reached a hand out for his chassis, and it felt like a livewire as he traveled inside.

Slowly, he filled out the chassis. Familiar circuitry. Identical, decade-old motherboards. But his mother and Sigmund were right- Clank felt as though he had full control, but something was… off… somehow. He powered the robot on and took stock of the room. Zoni, before only barely more than outlines zipped around the room in full view, the ley of the Clock as easy to read as before.

Flexing his servos, he looked up to Ratchet, whose lap he was now occupying before rolling to one side. One thing he'd heard from Ratchet was 'warm robot plus full bladder equals a very bad time', and sat expectantly at his side. Clank powered on his speaker system and turned to his friend, Ratchet still breathing evenly with his eyes closed as if on autopilot. "Well, it has been a day, has it not?" Clank was happy to hear his own voice from his chassis, oddly a little hollow from hearing so many other stolen voices since Ratchet's last real sleep cycle.

Ratchet's hands gripped the sofa as his eyes began to flutter.

"Well, unscrew my bolts and sell me for scrap," Sigmund said, surprised. "Looks like he  ** _is_**  waking up."

* * *

_[He's awake.]_

_[Wait. No. No, he's not. Or is he…?_

_[The truth reveals itself instantly, as a matter of simple empirical fact, quickly, without any limited mental processes to slow or confuse it. He's disconnected. Completely, this time. He no longer has any link to his body. Without that, there's little sense in the idea of being asleep or awake. He simply exists. There is a constant downward pull – anti-gravity? And acceleration. Beyond that he exists in a void.]_

_[Of course, being that he's never known any other state of existence until now, he freaks_ _**the hell** _ _out.]_

_[Until he notices that the void isn't empty. Something – someone – is right next to him. A steady, reassuring presence. It's not in the back of his head this time, it's just there._

_[_ _**Clank** _ _?]_

_[The question fills the void, resonating, sounding somewhat the way his voice would if he could speak, if he still had a voice to speak with. This is apparently the only way he can communicate now.]_

_[The presence doesn't respond. But it sends an image back to him. Not a visual. There's no sight here and therefore no visuals. It's another plain, simple fact. The presence is Clank. He's safe. He is the primary force inhabiting what's supposed to be Ratchet's body. That, at the moment, is in the physical plane, still intact and suspended in cryosleep. This time it's_ _**him** _ _that's in the back of Clank's head. Since Clank is asleep there can be no direct communication.]_

_[Fair enough. The void becomes dark and silent again as he accepts the situation.]_

_[Then – ]_

_[Time._ _**All of it.** _ _In his body he can only perceive each second, one at a time, as it passes. Here, time is not one second at a time, but a vast and complex whole, perceived from the center of the universe. As are the Zoni. He can sense them again. They are a singular, omnipresent whole – it, not they. It weaves over and under and through the fabric of time, governing everything that has happened, could have, is, will, may. It steers and influences and guides, it smooths the wrinkles and it mends the places where time is, was, will be torn asunder, and holds the frayed edges together.]_

_[It is the most terrifying and incomprehensible thing he's ever witnessed. He's seeing too much at once; one mortal soul isn't supposed to be seeing this. He recoils, withdraws, tries to shut it out – ]_

_[Clank disappears, the steady, tranquil presence fading into oblivion.]_

_[He doesn't have a chance to worry, because he's leaving the void_

and time narrows its focus back to one second. His perceptions shifted, returned to purely temporal. The all-encompassing awe and fear at the sight of the time continuum in its entirety transformed into the exhaustion left after several minutes of blind panic. Sound and sensation were back. He's lying – no, sitting, actually, on something soft. And he's got a  _splitting_ headache. He grabbed at what he's sitting on – sofa, with Sigmund, AV Room, the Great Clock – and gasped. Not for lack of air, but startled as the very nature of his existence changed completely in less than a second. It's like waking up from a nightmare.

"Where's Clank?!" were the first words out of Ratchet's mouth – real, audible words, not a mere signal.

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Sigmund replied nonchalantly, optics fixed on a point next to him.

Ratchet looked over. There's the new chassis from Quartu and it – it's powered on.

"Are you – "

"He sure is," Sigmund answered on Clank's behalf.

He let out a shaky, relieved little breath. For half a second he's tempted to sweep the little robot up into the bear hug of the century, but not wanting to worry his friend too much, he settled for a warm smile and a slap on the back. "Looks good on you, pal. Are you o – oh. Uh, hang on, which way to the bathroom?"

One minute later he returned, looking Clank up and down. "Are you okay in there?"

"He's stable for now," Sigmund piped up as he zipped around the room cleaning his tools and supplies up, "but I think you two have some stuff to talk about."

* * *

"We do," Clank said, testing out his voice again. It was sharp under the mechanical filter, clean, and the loose audio connector pin that had been bothering him for ages wasn't present in Clank Mark II.

Clank looked away, down at the floor, unsure of how to proceed. "Sigmund, what exactly is going on with me, anyway?" he finally settled on asking, before looking back up between Sigmund, the Zoni zipping about the room (he overheard two taunting each other to pull on Ratchet's ear, the children they were), and Ratchet.

"So, uh, ages ago. I used to be a cleaner bot for Zordoom Prison."

"You have mentioned this before, Sigmund, but what does that have to do with the Zoni?" Clank replied. That was a bit of a sidetrack for sure.

"I'm gettin' there, hold your fuses," he replied, snippily, hands on the tool ring encircling him. "So, anyway, cleaner bot. Most of the food was flown in. This was a couple thousand years ago, at the start of the Cragmite-Lombax war. Man, do I forget how old I am sometimes- well, anyway. Most was flown in, but we did have a sector on the planet for agriculture. Mostly wheat and rice, but some sources of protein. Aquaculture and poultry. And yes, this does have a point," he added, noticing Ratchet's tail twitch. "So I was in charge of cleaning chicken coops. This was before I became self-aware. Every day for years, clean up the cages, sort the eggs, move chicks to male or female pens, et cetera. One day my gravometric drive stopped working. Minor enough a problem, so I buzzed for repair. No legs, so I needed it, right? Yeah, anyway… took way longer than expected to fix. I have a safety rating of 1.5, meaning that for my daily sixteen-hour shift, I had an additional tolerance to do my work for eight hours, for a twenty-four hour day straight. Problem was, the repair took ten hours, so the minute I was able to get back to work, even at peak efficiency I didn't finish my last two hours of work until I had to restart my cycle."

Sigmund put a hand to his head, remembering. "So, anyway, I wasn't self aware. Instead of doing the smart, rational thing of finishing my current tasks, moving on to the start of the next day's cycle, and then taking my recharge… I immediately went back to the beginning of my programming from the top. One entire coop didn't get its eggs sorted that day. By the time I get to that coop, sixteen hours later, those hens hadn't been tended to for over a full day. Their food and water dropped down from a chute, so it wasn't a problem… but, I learned why you have to collect their eggs daily. All the hens had eaten the egg they'd laid the day before. And wouldn't touch normal food again. They'd gotten a taste for egg, and their brains simply wouldn't accept anything else. We had to kill and serve them, since any egg they laid would be instantly eaten."

"Clank,  ** _your soul's tasted egg._** "

Ratchet and Clank sat there in silence, taking in Sigmund's words. "Is this what everyone thus far has meant about needing a shell?"

"Yeah," Sigmund replied. "Would've warned you myself, but, like I said, I didn't realize you were like the other Zoni here. Given everything else, I figured normal rules didn't apply. Even Orvus is organic. And yeah, IS. No way he's really dead. The first few Zoni he made off himself bound to him, so he just cloned himself with some mods to his genes for them to live in. And do pre-empt other Zoni for binding to some unsuspecting person, he went around and rounded up every one he could find that had already been created and gave them a copy. The bodies only last about a century or so, so there's a cloner back in Sector Eleven. Zoni can leave their organic bodies, like you are now, but yeah, they need to eat 'n sleep in them to recharge. I don't think you being in an Orvus clone would be a problem- Orvus found some Zoni that did bind to regular organics and had to round them up after the organic passed away, and they seem fine- but you know that Zoni have to expend a lot of energy just to be perceived by regular organics. You'd be invisible to Ratchet and the rest of your friends most of the time. And, seeing you bound to him… it's probably your best option. You could also spend as much time as possible in your chassis and snap back to Ratchet himself to charge… but look at him. I'm not sure how much more he can take. Two souls sharing one body is not an easy feat. Ratchet's lucky to be conscious. You possess him much more an you might fuse souls completely. No offense to Ratchet here, but… Clank's would probably swallow yours whole. Zoni, after all."

Sigmund crossed his arms over his chest. "Clank needs his… ahem…  ** _eggs_**. It's just a matter of how you do this."

Clank gripped the edge of the sofa. "Well, using Ratchet as a grounding point himself is out of the question. How does the cloning machine work?"

"If you're going Zoni body, Patient Zero is already in it. You'd just jump in the fertilized cell copy so no real soul forms, I pop that in the cooker, and set it for about sixty minutes. Six minutes per year of maturation. They're fully grown whatevers at age ten. If we cloned someone else… I dunno. Once I had the sample primed it's probably the same."

"Cheek sample," a gaggle of Zoni monotoned. "Father left instructions if we ever needed a replacement starter."

"What, are we making bread, now?" Sigmund asked, shooing two of the Zoni that floated overhead.

"It is almost as if Father expected this."

"Orvus's omnipotence? Wouldn't put it past him," Sigmund replied. "Either way, while Clank's in the cooker, we need to figure out how this all started in the first place. Ratchet told me about what happened in Meridian. I actually think whoever set you up  ** _knew you were Zoni_** _._ I mean, think about it. They would have killed both of you knowing that fact. You panicked, jumping into Ratchet, and now you're stuck needing an organic. You stayed in him any longer and you would have probably  ** _shattered his soul_**. And who in Polaris would have believed you running around telling people Ratchet was dead, especially if Ratchet himself was saying it? They'd've locked you in a looney bin and washed their hands of it. Slam. The two heroes of the universe trapped in one body slowly wasting away, one shattered soul and the other one shattered by the former's loss. Terrible ways to die, numero uno, right there."

Clank sat there in silence, jaw servos locked up. Sigmund was  ** _right_**.

"This has happened before," Clank finally said, not asked. Sigmund's description came off his speaker too easily to have been thought out on the spot.

"Yeah, trust me, I'm not smart enough to think of that myself," Sigmund replied. "It's what caused this mess in the first place. Orvus told me about it, but it was eons ago, during the time of Fongoid time-travel. Long before I was manufactured. There were a few rival factions all using time travel to their own ends. A Fongoid and a Zoni were on one, working together. The hero woke up one day whispering 'Master is Dead' over and over. The others killed him for witchcraft, time travel wormholes got worse with him gone, and Orvus built the Clock. I may not have been around for the first time someone thought of abusing the Zoni like this, and I really don't want to see it happen in my err… 'lifetime', thanks. Someone's been reading some old texts and pulling a Yorn the Fallen on you, and it might be worth hunting down who's been accessing that info."

"Anyway, I'm sticking XJ in that cooker wether you to like it or not, but is it as a Zoni or as a lombax? Clock's ticking. Metaphorically and literally," he added, giggling. "Sorry. After all that, I think we really needed something to lighten the mood."

Clank finally turned upwards to look at Ratchet on his left, seemingly lost in thought. "Ratchet? I would rather become one of them," he motioned at the Zoni trying to grab at Sigmund's keys behind his back, "than clone you without permission. What would you like to do?"

* * *

After all Ratchet had been through today, after seeing his closest friend nearly die way too many times, after catching a harrowing glimpse of the whole time-space continuum that will probably haunt him for the rest of his days…here he was, listening to Sigmund reminisce about feeding Zordoom Prison's chickens.

Chickens.

Seriously, there'd better be a point to this.

 _…Oh._ There was.

 _Now_ he finally got why Clank's mother had doubts that he could re-inhabit this shell properly. Ratchet thought he looked okay, but he's been casting glances at Clank throughout this conversation and noticed that Clank is far less…animated than usual. Even stiffer and colder than he was in the early days, his voice flatter, his head and limbs barely moving at all. It's got to be the chassis that's restricting him right now, not an actual lack of emotion. He can't vaguely sense what his friend is feeling now, but it's got to be  _something_ intense.

So apparently, once you go organic you can't really go back. Not forever, anyway.

Now he understood what might be expected of him, and his mind is made up long before Clank asks the all-important question. Anything he needs, he can have. Clank just has to say the word.

And then Sigmund dropped a bomb. Pretty unexpected after the chicken tangent.

The hijacker  _knows._ And planned on offing them both in the worst way possible. His stomach roils with horror as Sigmund explained about the Fongoid and Zoni who accidentally ended up that way. Who were they? And what must the survivor have felt like when he realized that he'd…?

Ratchet felt sick and queasy as it hit him that  _his_ soul could have been totally obliterated with all today's goings-on. As it hits him that  _that_ would be a merciful and painless way to go compared to what Clank could have endured. A slow, torturous, and so very lonely death in the wrong body. He  _can't_ dwell on that one too long, or he really would throw up.  _Master is dead…Yeah._ That one's gonna haunt him, too. Never mind that this has happened, historically – who could be cruel enough to even dream up a death sentence like that – ?!

Someone on the inside. Someone on Polaris Defense Force.

His fists clenched, trembling, at his sides and he sat there grinding his teeth and breathing through his nose to remain calm and to suppress a growl because now he's not sick at his stomach, he's  _furious._

**_Nobody fucks with his friend like this._ **

_Especially not one of their own. Someone's_ going to answer for this when – if? – they make it back to Igliak, in whatever state they're going to make it back in. Whoever it is that knew about this is  _way_ too dangerous to leave in the PDC. And almost as dangerous as  _he_ was just at that moment. Ratchet is going to raise hell until he finds the smartass that's been reading too much and he's going to make them regret the day they decided this little hijacking scheme would be a good way to spend an afternoon –

– what?

Oh. That's right. They still had to pick a home base for Clank to come back to when the robot isn't working out for him. Zoni or Lombax.

Ratchet calmed himself down with a deep breath, leaning into the sofa back and unclenching his fists.

"It's your soul, Clank," he said, quietly. "I can't tell you what to do. If you think a clone of me would work better for you, then make one. You have my permission. But the rest is up to you. As long as I don't end up losing you, again. Do what you have to do, pal."


	5. Happy Birthday

"If you're asking my honest opinion," Sigmund said as Ratchet and Clank sat on a floating platform alongside him as they zipped to Sector Eleven, "Ratchet would be the better choice for you. Yes, you'd be easier to kill, but once we've got that sample, you  ** _can_**  always come back here to pop in a new body. Don't go willy-nilly killing yourself. You saw the toll it took on you. Recovery is a pain for the Zoni when they need to take on a new body, and they've been using the same ones for millennia. I don't know if you'll be able to freely see Zoni in a lombax body once you leave the Clock, though, but you'll be visible to others. And, after some time, if you really prefer being a robot, you could leave the body in cryostorage for when you needed it to recharge your soul. Also, Ratchet would theoretically have a more-or-less immortal body double. Orvus knows with the trouble you two get into, that might come in handy someday. In the far off future, though… here at the Clock being a Zoni body might make more sense. But that's not here and now, is it?"

Sigmund was clearly rambling nervously again, and Clank turned his head away from Sigmund to Ratchet. Ratchet's fur hid the common signs of exhaustion, but Clank could see it- the dry nose, the downturned ears, the slouch, the limp tail. Clank carefully wobbled to stand on the platform and began to gently scratch at Ratchet's ear.

"Ratchet, we have faced many things. We will be all right," Clank said, calmly, quietly. "But you are going to have to teach me to talk as an organic. I am decent at walking with your tail from observation, so that seems fine, and picking up objects is not difficult. However, while I know you move your mouth in different ways to speak, I was unable to replicate any sound to converse with Perihelion or Sigmund. I am going to be mute until I get some lessons. I am not trying to give you yet another task right now, certainly not in your condition. I am just letting you know." Clank closed his optics. He could hold on to his body for some time yet, but he felt like he needed to sleep, odd given he was currently robotic. That cryosleep induced nap had definitely helped before, but…

The platform lurched to a stop and Sigmund held out an arm for Ratchet. Clank following behind.

"I… don't normally go in here. Feels kinda… I'unno, invasive? The Zoni have been doing this long before I ever got here, sooooo…" Sigmund trailed off. "I'm sure they'll be doing most of the work." Sigmund stood in front of an access panel and the AI pleasantly let them inside. The room was on the smaller size, for a main chamber area, and five Zoni were huddled around a tank with three more growing inside. Every few seconds, they stopped, and the three Zoni were gently lifted out of the tank of semi translucent green goo via a small net, checked, got their nails clipped, and dropped back in the tank to grow a bit more. Clank looked at the three Zoni that were, for lack of a better word, being reborn. They did look a lot like Orvus. Fitted armor was scattered on the floor, as well as three Zoni corpses. Probably why Sigmund didn't come in here often; it may have even reminded him of those chicken coops. At least in this case, nobody was actually dying, just getting a new corporeal form. But it didn't make the bodies on the floor any less repulsive. Clank just hoped they didn't smell, because Ratchet had had enough to deal with already today.

"Right, it'll auto-clip their nails and pull out baby teeth; we're going to have to do that manually, aren't we?' Sigmund asked, doing his best to not look at the tank in use. One of the Zoni monitoring the rebirth turned to face them.

"We can sense Sire's disgust. New cycles can be put on hold until Sire's body is finished, no Zoni are in danger of termination," it said. "Step outside and wait. We will dispose of the old shells and finish assisting our current Brothers and then clear the room for Sire's use. We only require a few more minutes. We can prepare your sample in the interim, however."

Clank immediately grabbed Ratchet's hand and walked right back out the door. "I have seen enough near death, today," he stated, realizing he was a little shaken himself. "Remind me later that all Zoni make me incredibly uncomfortable. Present company included," he added, pointing stiffly at himself. Hopefully the joke lightened the mood.

"We do apologize," a Zoni said as they exited the room behind, "We are aware of organic distaste at seeing dead life. Has Sire made a decision on his corporeal form?"

**_Right, hive-mind. Another piece of the Zoni that freaked Clank out._ **

"Yes. I would prefer lombax over zoni," Clank said, cracking a little.

"Yes, Sire," the Zoni replied, nodding sagely, ignoring Clank's discomfort- or merely acknowledging it in a manner Clank couldn't recognize. "Ratchet, sir, please open your mouth. This will sting a small amount, while We scrape the inside. Do not worry, everything is sterile. We irradiate all our equipment to prevent cross contamination."

It was moments like these that reminded Clank that the Zoni were actually incredibly intelligent; more that they were merely pieces of a large system than individual organisms.

Ratchet obeyed, and the Zoni took a metal hooklike device, running it along the inside of his cheek. It pulled out the implement, rubbing it on a test strip in a petri dish, and capped it.

"Please wait. We will finish with our Brothers and make a master copy for you." The Zoni half-blinked; something Clank recognized as their form of smiling, before retreating back into the cloning chamber. A few moments of awkward silence passed between Ratchet, Clank, and Sigmund until three Zoni were released through the doorway and the trio were welcomed back inside.

The room was empty and spotless, the tanks completely clean. The five Zoni that had been overseeing the previous process began pulling out tools telekinetically- small and large nail clippers, heavy blankets, a small basin, pliers, rubbing alcohol…

"Sigmund was correct. We will have to remove Sire from the tank manually for maintenance every few months of Sire's expedited portion of life. How old would Sire like to be upon exit?"

"…twenty-six," Clank said after a pause.

The Zoni then turned to Ratchet for a barrage of questions- how quickly his nails grew, when he started loosing his infant teeth, how often his fur shed, when he had growth spurts… Clank tuned it out as he realized… ** _he was actually going through with this_**. It was… a bit nerve wracking to say the least.

Eventually, the Zoni seemed satisfied, and one pulled a petri dish from the side of the tank. "If I may," Clank interjected, "why do you need to take the growing form out constantly?"

"Imagine twenty six years of nail growth with the body basically in stasis. Depending on how one is suspended, the nails could curl around and cut back through flesh. One might swallow their own infant teeth in moments. In Sire's case, Sire will also grow fur, but will not likely shed in stasis. Sire will be incredibly fluffy. We may have to trim Sire during growth, and most certainly after Sire is finished maturing."

"Reassuring…" Clank said dryly.

"Sire, please enter your starter cell," one said, holding out the dish. "You will not displace a soul this way. None exists yet."

This was it.

Clank closed his optics, hugged one of Ratchet's legs, and shut off the chassis, before hooting himself into the cell.

And then he was breathing.

There was something under him, and something warm and gooey in his fur… oh. It was the net, pulling his body from the vat. Or at least he thought it was, as he was lurched upwards before metal arms pulled him into the air and then onto metal flooring.

Clank's world- as he felt liquid wash away the goo and then something sweet smelling rubbed into his fur, and then another gentle spray of liquid- was dark and soundless. His head was heavy, and he couldn't sit upright on his own. He felt something soft and warm wrapped around him, before he was lifted again, and held against something.

Clank was hungry.

Whoever was holding him- three metal balls for fingers, so, Sigmund, he realized, gently began stroking the top of his head with one hand and held him from his bottom with the other. Another pair of hands- thick feeling at first, and then suddenly thin and soft- Ratchet's, Clank guessed, before and after gloves, was gently pulling at his ears, his tail, opening and closing his mouth, putting fingers around his nose and wiggling it. Clank licked it the minute it was let go. It felt like it was something he had to do.

A postnatal checkup, maybe?

Was he taken out too early? He didn't know. He could tell he was tiny; he fit in Sigmund's hand easily. And Sigmund was so warm, radiating heat like most robots in operation do, (temporarily? former) self included.

Clank was passed off to Ratchet, who held him to his chest for a moment, stroking him gently from head to tail, before Clank felt a rumble deep in his throat.

Of course.  ** _Purring_**.

No-one seemed to be worried; no nervous shivering from Ratchet as far as he could tell. Maybe they didn't know he was blind and deaf?

No… Clank thought Ratchet might know, as he was shifted upwards, while still being pet gently. Clank felt a vibration though Ratchet's clothing.

Ratchet was purring too, and held Clank to his throat to feel it.

Ratchet gave Clank one more gentle stroke from his snout to ear with his thumb, before he was pinched on the back of the neck.  ** _Clipnosis_** , Clank recognized, as his whole body paralyzed. He felt himself being lifted up and down a few times, before being placed back on the mesh.

Another gasp for breath. This time, he heard it, though he still couldn't see. Clank perked an ear, surprised.

"Oh, hey, I think he's old enough to hear now," Sigmund said, surprised. "Clank, you're about six months old. If you can hear and understand, perk up your left ear. You should be strong enough to sit up, too."

Clank did as he was asked, and heard cheers; a cacophony of "yaaaaay"s from the Zoni, and laughter from Ratchet.

Clank laughed to himself- internally, of course. Externally, it was more like a gurgle, but he did feel like he had enough control over his infant mouth to grin a little. Ratchet, in one stroke, was both a father and twin brother to the person who was already, legally speaking, his own father.

Today was weird.

"We're not taking you down," Sigmund said from a distance. "And Ratchet can't touch the acceleration gel, so some of the Zoni are going to come and clip your nails. From here on out, we'll wash you and check on you at two, four, six, twelve, fifteen, and twenty, and the Zoni are going to pull you out for a quick nail clip when they notice they're growing too long. You're going to get all your baby teeth pulled at six. We'll put you under cryo for that, okay? You may need wisdom teeth pulled at twenty, but Ratchet has all his just fine, so that's only if they look impacted, aaaaand back in you go."

Sigmund's distraction had worked so well that Clank only then realized a pair on hands holding each of his own before letting go, letting him sink back into the sticky goo.

Another breath. This time, Clank had enough bodily strength to hold his arms out, and flicked his tiny tail against the netting while four Zoni- one per each hand and foot, quickly snipped. His eyes felt gooey, but he could make out shapes this time, and actually blink.

"Happy first birth-" he heard Sigmund shout before he was dropped back under. The two of them seemed to be enjoying this, in some weird way.

Two more times he was quickly pulled up, clipped, and dunked back under before he was actually lifted off the netting again, and set in the basin to be rinsed off. The Zoni ran a low-pressure hose over him, and scrubbed in shampoo before rinising off. Between the warm water and the rubbing, Clank closed his eyes and began to purr again.

"Sire sounds like an engine."

"This means Sire has not changed at all."

The Zoni all laughed, before one offered a hand, a hand Clank could now see pretty clearly with the goo out of his face, and he carefully tottered out of the tub. His tail puff was pretty heavy compared to the rest of him, dragging on the floor, and he swayed his tail back and forth just to stay standing.

"Okay, you're so cute it's criminal," Sigmund commented. "And you have one heck of a coat on you." Clank looked down at his own body; Sigmund was right. He had much, much thicker, heavier fur than Ratchet. "Some of that is because you're still so small, but most is because you don't shed in the tank. We'll groom you when you're older because it's going to grow back even faster every time it's cut."

Clank looked over at Ratchet, who had knelt down to his height, fluffy towel in hand.

"Walk to Ratchet, if you can, XJ," Sigmund said. "You might be just a smidge too young and uncoordinated, but at least try."

Clank took a teetering step, a second, a third, and fell.

"You did pretty good for a toddler," Sigmund commented, before Ratchet walked gingerly over and dried Clank off, before swaddling him in a new, warmed towel, lifting him up in the crook of his arm, smiling a little despite his apparent exhaustion. Clank couldn't help but purr, leaning into his friend.

"We were checking pulse, breath, and reflexes last time," Sigmund explained, as Ratchet started shining a small light in Clank's eye. A Zoni floated overhead, taking notes, when suddenly, Clank felt a sharp pang on his back, puffed air out of his mouth… and shrieked loudly, before biting his lower lip so he wouldn't start crying, well, like a baby.

"Apologies, Sire. We needed to check reaction and pain. Thank you. You also need immunizations," one Zoni said, a little sheepishly.

One round of shots later, and a quick, warm hug from both Sigmund and Ratchet, and Clank was back in the gel. Months of aging flew by quickly as the Zoni had his nail clipping down to a science, and soon enough, six-year-old bodied Clank was being strapped into a chair to have all of his baby teeth pulled.

For the second time today, he was being fitted with a cryo muzzle. Wait… was that Peri-

Breath. Clank awkwardly smacked his gums, tongue feeling one new fang poking through and…

Breath. Years spun by so quickly that he caught single phrases from Ratchet's and Sigmund's conversations as he aged, only pausing at twelve for more immunizations, a quick bloodwork check, and a reassuring scratch behind the ear for good measure. (Also a scruffing to see if he kept the reflex into adulthood, which, just like Ratchet, he  ** _did_**. Being paralyzed just from a neck pinch was disorienting, though not painful.)

Before he knew it, he was fifteen.

Because of the checkups, it had already been about three and a half hours, and it was… it wasn't grueling, at least from Clank's perspective, but probably from Ratchet's. He looked like he'd been sitting in the same spot on a heated blanket on the floor, pretty much unmoving during the little bits where Clank was pulled up just to be clipped.

Clank walked himself out of the netting and into the tub this time, fur coming off in clumps. This time, like when he was twelve, he cleaned himself, rinsed, and toweled, but two Zoni quickly ran brushes through his fur to remove any large barely-hanging on clumps, which was most of the thick fur stuck to Clank. Embarrassed, he undid the towel, and the two floating nightmares brushed out the rest of the errant fur. Clank shook himself out, finally, and redid the towel, before a pair of shorts were tossed at his face.

"This time's a few more shots and a physical fitness test," Sigmund explained. as Clank dropped the towel and tried to get into the pair of blue shorts, hopping around on one leg before falling on his face. Ratchet's swim trunks that he had shoved in Perry from that time Clank surprised Ratchet with an impromptu beach trip. Right. Some of Ratchet's casual clothes- or laundry- were probably still balled up in Perihelion's storage. The Zoni must have gathered and washed everything, because the shorts smelled like… soap? Not quite like the shampoo they'd been using, but similar. He'd have to start getting used to distinguishing smells.

Slowly, he wormed his way into the shorts, pulling his tail through as Ratchet looked on, cracking up, before going through the series of tests. Stretches, sit ups, push ups… he was surprised how easy everything was, given that he'd literally been cooked up in a giant gooey test tube. He was expecting lethargy, no musculature, but however they aged him up, it was as if he'd had a relatively healthy lifestyle.

"If you want to keep the swimsuit on, you're not going to grow that much, plus it's stretchy," Sigmund mentioned. "Err, wait, that's one of Ratchet's from now, isn't it? Same difference, really. Back in you go."

Clank shook his head, miming the way that he would catch Ratchet preen himself in the mirror. Up until now, he'd only seen himself from his own perspective.

But now, he was fifteen. The age he met Ratchet. He wanted to see what he looked like.

Ratchet seemed to understand, tossing Clank a holoreceiver so he could use the front-facing camera. Other than patches of overly-thick fur, Clank looked at the face of his friend from when he'd first met ten years ago. Clank never noticed how Ratchet had aged before, but here, with the two of them side by side, the difference was obvious. Ratchet was a good nine centicubits taller, with a lankier form and thinner, more pointed face and snout, lighter colored fur on his muzzle and ear tips. Clank pulled Ratchet next to him and snapped the camera button before bolting out of Ratchet's grasp, tossing him back the holoreceiver just before diving back into the tank.

Eleven more years. For the most part, they had nail clipping down to a science, and he only came out once more at twenty to check his wisdom teeth and receive one last round of immunizations. In an hour and a half, Clank woke up in an empty tank, shaking goo from his fur.

"You're done," Sigmund said, looking at their handiwork. "Wash up, and we'll give you a proper grooming, then you should probably eat."

Clank's tail wagged a little more excitedly than expected. He  ** _was_**  pretty hungry, and they'd basically killed a day. Talwyn had probably called at some point. Hopefully Ratchet held up his chassis and lied that he'd been in sleep mode.

Clank sighed as he slipped into the hot water. Sooner or later, they'd have to leave the sanctuary of the Clock and face their assailant, but for now, the Zoni washed him again, the first time since he'd turned six, this time as they sheared wet fur.

Before he knew it, Clank had his head resting on his knees in the basin, snoring loudly.

* * *

Before Clank exited his robot chassis one last time, Ratchet gave him a quick, admittedly awkward half-hug. "Go for it, pal," he said. Within seconds, XJ0461 was in the cloning tank somewhere, invisible without a microscope.

Ratchet heaved a sigh and pressed the latch on Clank's – on the chassis's back, retracting the limbs and locking them in sleep position. He picked the unit up and places it safely aside, wondering if Clank's ever going to return to it.

~X~

By a long shot, the next six hours are the longest and strangest of Ratchet's life. For several minutes the tank looked empty, except for that green gel, but almost before he notices it, a tiny, solid mass appears suspended in the gel. He stepped up for a closer look when it's big enough, recoiling when he realizes it's an embryo.  _Ew._ It isn't as if he's unaware of how this works, but he didn't exactly plan on seeing it happen, right out in the open? Ever?

But neither he nor Clank planned on any of this, so that's fair.

What's it going to be like fighting alongside a Lombax – again? And a perfect carbon copy of himself, no less? Ratchet's not sure he'll ever get past that.

As it turns out, he started to get past it pretty quickly; when the gestation stage is over and there's a tiny infant Lombax being filtered out of the gel and lifted into the open. He watched, half-fascinated, as the baby, who's filling the cloning chamber with loud, pathetic little mewls, was washed and Sigmund picked him up.

He's never seen a newborn Lombax before, after all.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Sigmund said. "Help me check his vitals and get him calmed down; I feel bad for the guy!"

Ratchet hurried over, saying, "Well, he's obviously  _breathing_  – "

"Does he look accurate? Check everything, ears, nose, tail. If there's a problem it'll just be harder to fix the more he ages."

"How should I know?" Ratchet protested, nevertheless doing as Sigmund tells him. "I don't know what I looked like when I was a baby."

"Like this, we'll have to assume. The cooker doesn't usually make mistakes, but you never know. Here. Hold on to him for a minute."

And the infant, still mewling loudly, ends up in Ratchet's arms as Sigmund helps the Zoni prepare the cloning machine for the next stage. Ratchet tried to support the kit's neck and shushed him.

"He can't hear you," Sigmund said from across the room. "Try something else. And don't drop him!"

"I'm not gonna drop him,  _geez_!"

At a loss for anything else to do, Ratchet worked up an exaggerated purr – the kind he uses to keep himself calm and grounded against the worst injuries on the battlefield. That did the trick, apparently. The baby's cries tapered off, within seconds, into a small, steady purr, and his tiny body slowly relaxed against Ratchet's chest, shivering in the draft as a flock of Zoni float by.

Something tugged at his heartstrings.

The next few minutes were even more surreal. The chamber fadeed away as Ratchet held the kit protectively, sheltering him against his chest to keep him warm, overwhelmed by the closest thing he has ever felt to…what? Paternal instinct? Is this what it feels like? Is this how his father, Kaden, felt?

His own purr became automatic, gentle and as natural as the rest of his breathing, and he found himself stroking the kit's fur and whispering, "It's okay," every time he shivered, more tenderly than he's ever said anything in his life. "It's okay."

 _Sire is not yet ready,_ the Zoni reminded him.

"Get the lead out, Ratchet, we've got work to do!" Sigmund called out.

"O-okay, I'll be right there," he stammered, snapping back to the present issue. The kit is still Clank, in a clone version of himself, and this is _about twenty different kinds of weird._ They're never talking about this.

He picked  _Clank_ ,  _this is Clank_ , up by the scruff, carefully, and lowered him back onto the mesh. "Hang in there, pal. 25 years to go."

~X~

It wasn't until Clank reached age 15, a few hours later, that it stopped feeling like some weird late-night sci-fi special and just became hilarious, because not even Clank – intelligent, dignified Clank – could make Ratchet's fifteen-year-old self look any less goofy.

Okay, that's probably because Clank is also a huge dork, and they both know it.

"Oh great," he laughed as Clank checked his appearance out and took a second to snap a selfie with him before diving back in the tank. "He's even got my vanity."

~X~

Talwyn called, somewhere between 15 and 20. Ratchet didn't lie to her – because he's a terrible liar – but he did make sure she knows two things. First, he and Clank were both safe. Second: They still needed to lay low. As far as anyone else needs to know, they're either dead or missing – whichever option will give her more leverage.

"I'll tell you everything as soon as I can," he said at last. He can't meet her eyes through the hologram. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her lips were drawn in a tight, shaky line, and that tells him all he needs to know. She's scared, so scared. But there are worse things to be than scared. "Until then, you're just gonna have to trust us. Okay?"

She hung up without a word.

~X~

Ratchet yawned, stretched, and accidentally rolled face-first off the sofa.

"Ow!"

He sat on the floor rubbing his nose, trying to remember when he moved, or was moved, to the AV Room. What time was it? Was Clank…done, or was he still in that cloning tank?

As if they heard his thought – and who knows, maybe they did – a chorus of Zoni intoned somewhere behind him,

_We completed Sire's new shell nine hours ago. You will find him in the garden in Sector Nine._

"Wait, you have a  _garden_?" Ratchet picked himself up, feeling stiff and sore, but a lot less loopy after nine-plus hours of uninterrupted sleep. "Like, with plants? Next you're gonna tell me there's a swimming pool."

The Zoni narrowed their eyes – Clank told him that's their version of a smile.

"Which way?"

They had to escort him the long way around, since he can't float anymore and can't slow time down, but eventually the Zoni led Ratchet to an enormous crystal glass dome in Sector Three. The AI slid the door open with a pleasant chime and he headed into the contained garden.

Garden?! Try  _forest._ It's pleasantly warm and trees are everywhere; most with deep green foliage, but looking up into the canopy he could see brilliant pops of every other color possible spread throughout the green. Instead of a glass floor, there's soft, mossy earth. The air is as fresh as a warm day in spring, and if it weren't for the occasional glimpses of distant stars, nebulae, and Clock movements out the dome overhead, it would be easy to forget that he  _isn't_ in a real forest.

With his sense of smell and the fact that he's looking for an  _exact copy of himself,_ it didn't take too long to find Clank. This was the first time he's seen his friend after the cloning process, and it's weird because when he sees him, his first thought wasn't  _clone_ so much as it was… _twin brother._

 _Huh._ He could get used to that.

"Hey!" Ratchet hailed his friend with a surprisingly easy smile as he walked into the glade, crowded with small fruit trees he can't identify at a glance. "Looks like you made it to twenty-six without breaking a single bone. You lucky bastard."


	6. Yorn

Clank was poked awake, in the drained basin, filled with shorn fur. He blinked a few times, and a single Zoni met his eyes.

“Sire, sleeping like that is not good for an organic’s back. We have beds, and there is also the Garden to rest in if Sire prefers. Sire should put on some clothing and receive proper rest. We will prepare food for Sire and Ratchet as well.”

Clank scanned the room. Ratchet had already left with Sigmund after his checkup at 20, carried out snoring to go nap somewhere else. His chassis was gone, too, replaced by some of Ratchet’s civilian clothing that the Zoni had cleaned. And the tank had already been refilled and set, and a second one was also humming to life. Clank’s birth had probably backed up their own schedule- he counted at least fifteen bodies on the floor. Thankfully, there was no overtly bad smell.

Clank gripped the basin edge, hauling himself over it, before toweling himself off, a small snowstorm of shaved fur raining down with him.

“Brushing, sire?” the Zoni asked. Clank nodded, sitting cross legged on the floor, still in Ratchet’s swim trunks as the Zoni gently brushed out any remaining shedding.

Clank was quickly understanding why Ratchet liked to be so touchy-feely with people, as he uncurled his tail and relaxed. It was… calming. Organic bodies drugged themselves to reinforce positive behavior with endorphins, and Clank was experiencing it for the first time.

“Sire, do not fall asleep sitting up again,” it chided, poking Clank with the brush. Clank blinked, and slowly wobbled upright, swaying his tail from side to side as he reached for Ratchet’s tank top, pulling it over his head, followed by a short-sleeve button-up shirt with a green palm-leaf pattern from Pokitaru. Five fingers was a strange change, but Clank quickly got the hang of it, careful about keeping his nails out of the way, sheathing and unsheathing them a few times when done just to try.

Next was the harder part: pants. Sliding off the swim trunks was easy, but then Clank needed to put on some boxers and the stiff cargo pants left for him. He hopped, nails scratching the metal floor in an unpleasant sounding scrape, and almost fell, before feeling a warm invisible wall of Zoni energy; leaning into the assist, Clank managed without difficulty.

It was then that Clank realized something was… different. Well, obviously, everything was different, but this in particular; Ratchet normally rolled up the hem on these pants a good few centicubits. When Clank came out at fifteen, he was shorter than Ratchet. But how was he taller now, shouldn’t he be the same height? The pants were rolled up above his ankles, and he bent over to unroll them back down, using his tail for counterbalance.

Clank stretched out, still shivering a little, and the Zoni that had been helping him floated Ratchet’s fleece jacket over. Clank plucked it from the air; the jacket was incredibly soft. Textures, smells… Clank was slowly absorbing the sensory input as it came. He pulled his ears back and pulled the windbreaker over his head, ears flopping once free from the high collar. Unfortunately, Ratchet didn’t have extra shoes, gloves, or hats in Perry, so Clank stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled to the exit.

“Bed or garden, Sire?” the Zoni asked. Clank pulled a hand from his pocket, holding up two fingers. “Sector Nine, then, Sire. Out, take the platform to Sector Three then move inwards towards the center of the Clock. It is the largest inner dome here.”

Clank had seen the dome before from Three- the outer ring of the clock were Sectors one through five, six to ten in the middle ring, and eleven and twelve dead center, though he never had much time to explore the complex.

“We will have a hot meal sent over once Sire’s friend awakens,” the Zoni said, squinting. “Have some fruit from the trees while waiting. We are partial to the pomegranates.”

Clank nodded, and stepped onto the platform at the entryway, lurching to life. He tuned his ears, listening to the Clock in wonder. No longer could he hear the electrical current running through the Clock, but its song was still sweet and audible to him, just slightly different. It was soothing; a lullaby. Zoni zipped around him, tending to various aspects of the giant station. Occasionally, one would fly close, reaching out a hand to pet their master. For all the bad that had happened… Clank was finally starting to be at peace.

Nails clicking on Plexiglas and metal, Clank walked around Sector Three. Could he use the shortcut through the maintenance rooms to get to Nine? Clank stepped on a time pad to record his actions, feeling an odd brush along his muzzle, probably the air blasts from the maintenance shafts. Clank started the pad, opening up the doorway ahead before resetting. Immediately, he was yanked back to the pad area, with his own self on the starter pad he’d just used, frozen in time and about to step forward.

Clank reached out to his own self., before pulling his hand back, worried about messing with the time stream, and chose to walk quietly around himself for a moment, taking a quick look. He was Ratchet… but not. Clank was slimmer- especially his arms- and back straighter. His tail was a bit fluffier, too, and his open mouth revealed much sharper, completely white teeth, unstained by food or coffee. Clank was probably created under ideal conditions- and, having never carried a robot on his back or heavy weaponry, had the musculature of what might be an ‘average’ lombax, but not Ratchet in particular.

The changes were subtle enough that Clank was easily a body double for Ratchet, of course, given that the DNA was identical, but there **_were_** means of telling the two apart.

Especially the teeth. That was the easiest by far, given the amount of decaf coffee Ratchet drank. **_Just_** enough caffeine per cup to give him a boost, not enough to harm.

Clank stepped on the second time pad, thought for a moment, and ran his finger along the snout to lift the lip slightly and get a better view. He’d already done it, anyway.

Clank nodded at himself, started the second pad, and walked on through the door.

~X~

The dome loomed overhead, and the AI unlocked it pleasantly. “Hello, XJ, good to see you with your spark back,” she added sweetly. Clank bowed slightly. “Still not talking? Here you go,” she added, and a small keypad glowed in front of him. “I can try and mimic your voice if you like. That should also follow you around the Clock.“

[Ratchet?] Clank typed in, happy to communicate with more than just body language.

“Sleeping in the AV room. Best let him rest.”

[Agreed. He has been through] Clank paused, thinking of the right way to finish.

“A lot,” she said for him. “As have you. Go rest up. Orvus’s favorite spot was under the weeping willows but lombaxes really like the sun… you’d probably be right at home on top of the small boulder by the sawgrasses. Take a left down the path when you enter, shouldn’t be hard to miss. There’s also a small desert biome in the far corner, sealed off. When Ratchet is awake you might want to take him there. It’s hot and dry and should do both of you a world of good. Also, prickly cacti and sweet prickly pears, which, thanks to the Zoni, are perpetually in season. They have a sweet tooth like you wouldn’t believe.”

[Thank you] Clank replied honestly, as the doors slid open with a warm hum. Clank followed the AI’s directions on the winding path, before the grove broke to a field of sawgrass with a large boulder on top. Clank unsheathed his claws and began to climb. The rock had been heated mechanically; Clank could faintly hear it hum, and two lazy Zoni were already snoozing on top. Clank remembered how Ratchet would curl, copying it as best he could, and immediately fell asleep.

~X~

Clank wasn’t sure what woke him- but a few blissful hours of sleep later, he’s up and yawning, stretching out on the warm rock.

**_Oh._ **

A Zoni was lightly tugging on his tail and giggling, because of course it was. Hive-minded Zoni, highly intelligent Zoni, and it wanted to pet a kitty. All Zoni in the universe were currently pulling Clank’s tail with this tiny one- possibly one of the freshly hatched from that day.

Clank shook his tail, as much for the practice as it was to keep the little bug occupied, and sniffed. Smells everywhere, from his clothing- soap, he’d guessed, because of the similarity to the shampoo smell- to a sharp scent that reminded him of Perihelion’s cryosleep gas, and millions of others in between. Clank would have to slowly learn what they meant, but he had time for that.

But there was one smell he absolutely recognized- Ratchet- because it smelled like himself. Carefully, Clank scanned down to the treeline, barely making out a fuzzy pair of ears, and descended the rock to go meet up with him.

Clank met Ratchet almost where the treeline broke to field, just inside the fruit-tree glade, smiling back, before tapping on the hard light keyboard floating next to him

[No broken bones] the AI spoke for him after he hit the enter key, in an identical sound and tone to Clank in his chassis. He almost considered telling the AI to use her own voice, but Ratchet’s ears perked at hearing it. [I did use my claws to try a little climbing, and it seems like my time manipulation powers are intact. I have not tried anything else. Oh! Would you mind if I stood back to back?] Clank leaned back to Ratchet, typing out [Are we the same height?].

Two Zoni carrying large food trays overhead looked down. “Sire is taller,” they said in unison. “Approximately two and a half centicubits. Furthermore, we come bearing food.”

[The station AI mentioned a spot in here we should visit. Follow me.] Clank turned heel out to the field from whence he came, following a dirt path to the back area, glassed in with red rock and cacti.

“Each of the areas here is a microcosm of major planets of Polaris,” the Zoni supplied. “We have just passed Quartos, Igliak, Jasindu, and are entering Fastoon.”

The door to the desert biome slid open and Clank was hit with a blast of hot dry air. Ratchet followed, as well as the Zoni, and the door closed behind. Clank didn’t mind dry, but hot usually meant having to keep an eye on his core temperature. Here, he felt completely at home, taking in the dry heat, the **_smell_** of the desert. And prickly pears were **_everywhere_**. Suddenly, Clank was salivating, reaching out for one of the fruits before…

Clank screeched. **_Thorns_**. Right. Ratchet could grab them in thick work gloves before peeling them with a light knife, or Clank could- **_used to be able to_** \- handle them barehanded. Clank shook out his hand, sucking on it without even thinking.

Oh, right, his own telekinesis. He stared at the cactus, pulling a fruit towards him, flinging it off the cactus and almost smashing Ratchet in the face with it.

[At least it works] Clank typed one handed. [Let me let the Zoni do it.]

Clank sat on a flat mesa rock cross legged, and the Zoni placed one giant tray in front of him for Ratchet and Clank to share, the other one for the two Zoni themselves. Large sheets of circular flat bread- thin enough to be pancake like- and bowls of fruit, vegetables, thinly sliced fried bean curds, fish braised in a brown sauce… some of the items were in blue bowls- sweet things like nut butters and cream, while others in gold bowls- savory things.

No utensils.

Clank turned to look at how the Zoni ate, removing their helmets. Of course. Telekinetically putting things in their crepes. Looks like Ratchet was going to have to- oh. Spoons. Of course Ratchet would be the smart one to go poking around through the tray items before actually eating. Nonchalantly, one of the Zoni waved a hand, plucking two ripe fruit off a cactus, peeling them in midair and slicing them without a knife, dropping the bits into an empty bowl on Ratchet and Clank’s tray.

Clank looked at his options, before simply mimicking Ratchet. He understood the components of cooking, certainly, he’d cooked plenty for Ratchet before. But, other than puking on an office chair (was that one day ago? Two? He couldn’t tell.) he’d never actually tasted food before.

Clank ripped at the rolled up package of fish and vegetables with his teeth, before chewing. It was… incredible.

One bite, another, careful not to eat too quickly. Were… was he **_crying?_**

Clank didn’t care, as he started stuffing his next crepe full of prickly pear and cream, only pausing to briefly type. [So, Ratchet, can you teach me how to speak? I am becoming quite tired of being dumb.]

* * *

 

Like a good sport, Ratchet allowed Clank to compare their height, expecting them to match. They don’t. “Aw, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” he whined. “I meet an exact clone of myself and I’m _still_ the short one?!” It’s true, though. Clank’s not only taller, but his back and arms are all just a little bit straighter, and when Clank smiled he caught a glimpse of fangs; actual fangs like Alister Azimuth had, not his dull canine teeth. So _this_ is what he probably would have looked like if he _had_ grown up among Lombaxes. It’s strange to imagine, even with the physical evidence of that possibility right in front of him. What would he be like? Where would Clank be right now?

He followed the Zoni group and Clank out of the forest biome, into the wide-open, pale golden desert that looks so much like Fastoon, and sighs contentedly as the warm wind (where’s it coming from, anyway?) swept through his fur. The forest was nice enough, but he could seriously curl up here, on one of those flat rocks, and take another nap.

He forgot about that when he noticed the cluster of cacti that Clank was headed for, covered in bright red, ripe prickly pears. Clank’s not wearing gloves. “Hey, watch the – !” Oh, too late, spines. “Sorry,” he said as Clank nursed his hand – his fur probably shielded him from the finer, sharper hairlike spines but he’s bound to have a few of the thicker ones stuck in his paw pads. “Hang on, I’ll get some for – _yikes_!” One of the fruits flew right past him in midair, missing his face by an inch or so. 

Good, Clank still has his powers. He was a little worried those would be lost.

~X~

However long ago it was, the office chair incident was _too_ long ago, and now that Ratchet isn’t too tired or too tense to notice how hungry he is, he’s putting a good dent in lunch. While he’s assembling Round #3 of tofu and vegetable crepes, Clank reminded him about the speaking lessons. Practical as ever, especially considering he’s still in tears over crepes. Ratchet probably would be too if he’d never actually tasted food before.

“Yeah, definitely,” he said, and takes a bite to buy himself some time to think. How’s this gonna work? It’s not like teaching a kid to talk. Clank already understands language and has a better vocabulary than he does. 

“Um…well, remember when you were a robot?” (Dumb question.) “And when you talked, you just moved your jaw panel around? You’re just gonna keep doing that. …And using your teeth, and tongue, and vocal cords, and – okay, so it’s not like talking when you were a robot at all. You use your voice and muscles together to make sounds, and you put all the sounds together. It’s…um, let’s start with consonants. I think they might be easier than vowels.”

He has no idea what he’s doing, and it probably shows. He’s not entirely sure that the Zoni aren’t laughing at him.

“So, first there’s _B._ You make the ‘buh’ sound basically by popping your lips together. ‘Buh.’ You try it. ‘Buh.’”

Ratchet kept trying to get Clank to pronounce the _B_ sound until, after a few minutes, he makes a sound somewhere between a _B,_ a _W,_ and a _P._

“…Close enough. Let’s try _C_. You pronounce that at the back of the tongue. Same as _K._ …Except when it’s pronounced like an _S._ ” 

Oh, boy.

Several consonants and one hour later, Ratchet’s voice was starting to wear out, and it’s dawning on him that this is going to take a _lot_ longer than an afternoon.

* * *

 

Speaking was hard, exacerbated by the fact that Clank **_knew_** words, **_knew_** what things should sound like… but  ** _couldn’t_**.

Diction required so much effort on the part of an organic. For his own chassis, and many robots, the command line was simple- mental command line of text, project to speech synth, and lower/raise jaw, once per syllable. That was it.

The lower jaw movement wasn’t even **_necessary_** \- it was so organics could see them speak. Peace of mind and all that.

So, to sit there, frustrated, attempting to mimic the air pop required to make b’s and p’s, and make them sound distinct, was a new feeling for Clank. He remembered when he was back in the PDC and Ratchet spoke to the squad, how effortlessly his mouth moved and tongue clicked to provide the sounds that formed words. After a few frustrating more minutes, Clank frowned and threw up his arms in irritation, before angrily stuffing a third crepe with nut butter and banana slices.

After crepe #3, Clank was full, and it took his mind off his annoyance a little. The material in the tank had been sustaining him while growing, but Ratchet hadn’t had anything to eat since the chalky ration bar nearly a day ago, and was plowing through most of the platter in front of them. The two Zoni with them moved the rest of their food onto Clank’s and Ratchet’s tray, before attempting to play with Clank’s tail. Again.

“What if… “ Both Zoni squinted, lost in the same thought.

One floated over to a control panel hidden in the side of one of the Fastoon rocks, interfacing with the AI.

“Sire, please come to the screen.”

Clank rose, stepping up around the cacti while Ratchet continued to eat, and leaned into the rock to observe the contents on the screen.

**Articulatory Phonetics**

No images, merely dense text. Clank snorted. The Zoni knew exactly how Clank learned best: absorption of dense material. Except that, in his new body, he didn’t have a choice of whether he wanted to read it or download it. So, reading it was.

_‘…most sounds in the world’s languages are produced by manipulating air coming into the vocal tract as it is being exhaled by the lungs, a method referred to as the **pulmonic egressive airstream mechanism**.  Sounds made by manipulating air as it is exhaled from the lungs are called **pulmonic egressive sounds...’**_

Clank sped through the document, slowly working through the consonants as they were introduced, now understanding why b, p, and w were so hard to separate (all of them bilabial, along with ‘m’) skimming over sections on uvular and apico-palatal utterances as they weren’t used in Solana or Polaris standard, but a few scattered creoles, including Lombax. He’d have time to learn the non-essentials later. Now, he just wanted to be able to communicate.

And, as he slowly combined individual consonant and vowel sounds to form whole syllables, he started feeling… uncomfortable.

Clank, in his own clothing (or, more specifically, not a duplicate of Ratchet’s current attire, even though the clothing was his), felt separated enough from his friend.

But, as the sounds formed syllables and then words…

It was Ratchet’s voice he spoke with.

Granted, in the back of his mind, Clank was expecting this. Same DNA, same vocal chord length, same voice range. However, that didn’t make it **_feel_** any less awkward.

“Rah-chet,” Clank slowly articulated, still feeling unsteady with his new voice. “What do we do now? I am af-fraid we can-not just stay here in-def-in-at-ly. We need in-for-ma-tion on what hap-pened last time. To… Yorn?”

“Master Yorn,” the Zoni intoned, sadly. “We were Him, when the Loki cornered us. We had no choice. We thought we could leave when we finished… but we crushed Master. We broke Master Yorn into an infinite number of pieces. And then. Then We became stuck.”

Right. ** _Hive mind_**. Of course they would all remember, even though it only happened to one. Clank shivered a little despite the heat, before realizing he needed to sit, his head feeling… wrong. Before he knew what was happening, his legs buckled out from under him. Like crying from earlier, his mind couldn’t handle his body’s new signals, except this time was **_stress_** , not joy.

In an instant, the Zoni were at Clank’s face, offering water, and a cold armor-plated hand to his forehead. Another hand pinched the back of his neck, and his muscles immediately went from stressed and hyperventilating to limp- Ratchet maybe, though it could have been another Zoni. Clank noted that without his chassis he lost his ability to radar-sense organics within a short radius. His entire backside was now a giant blind spot.

“I… think I am all right,” Clank said woozily as the fingers on his neck were released and he could move again, carefully lifting his back so he wasn’t sitting on his tail, shifting slowly to prevent another head rush.

Clank realized how fragile and alien this was as he quietly gulped for air, eyes closed, breath eventually returning to normal. Once he felt a little better, Clank slowly opened his eyes and took an offered sip of water, and a gentle head scratch from a new white-eyed Zoni that had come in from somewhere else in the Clock.

“Please, Zo-ni, tell us ev-ery-thing you know.”

* * *

 

Of course Clank would figure out how speech works by reading about linguistics. Nerd.

And, by the way, it was  _exactly_ as weird for Ratchet, hearing his own voice coming from Clank, as it was for Clank. He didn’t even think “this is the weirdest day” this time because his own thoughts on the matter were starting to sound like a broken record.

As Clank collapsed and the Zoni swooped in to comfort him, Ratchet was at his side in an instant, gently pinching the scruff of his neck to counteract the stress hormones he couldn’t possibly be used to dealing with yet, the way Clank had done for him _so many_ times, until his friend bucked up and pulled himself back together.

 **“ _Before We came to the Great Clock, We lived among the Fongoids_** _,_ ” the group of Zoni began, in chorus. “ ** _Master Yorn was Our disciple, Our companion. Together, We learned to move among the stars and among the ages, to walk on both paths rather than choose one.”_**

“To – travel in both space and time?” Ratchet clarified.

The Zoni dip their heads slightly as an affirmative.

_“ **We followed Master Yorn to the future. To Toranux. We were stuck there as the Cragmite Bagogg began to tear the world asunder. The sky was aflame. Master was afraid. And then the Loki spirits ambushed Us.”**_

Ratchet could feel his fur bristling, and he thought if he looked over at Clank, he might see the same thing.

**_“Their hosts were suffocating as the sky burned and the earth screamed. The spirits needed new hosts. They could not possess Master. In desperation, they tried to take Us by force. Master offered us shelter and We became him._ **

**_“We escaped. We returned to Master’s proper place and time._ **

**_“And Master was gone. We listened for him and We heard only silence. We were lonely.”_ **

A note in the Zoni’s usually monotonous drone was dangerously close to grief. Ratchet was grateful he didn’t have any empathetic connection with them just now, because hearing about this as a third party was bad enough. But did Clank still feel it…? 

**“ _We called out to Master’s tribe. We cried for help. But Our voice was his, and We struck fear in their hearts. They cast us into the flames, and We were free and disperse. When We reunited, it was here, at the Clock._**

**_“We possessed an organic and We bound to it. This is why Orvus granted Us Our temporal shells. Without them We are flung out among the stars, unable to commune with or guide One Another. Without them, We cannot live as We do. Whether they intended it or not, the Loki bound and limited Us for eternity.”_ **

The Zoni hovered a little closer to Clank.

**_“It was for this reason that Orvus housed Sire in a mechanical shell, to free Sire from organic limitations. And now Sire has fallen with us.”_ **

“So, do you think it’s a…a Loki spirit that did this to Clank?” Ratchet asked slowly, feeling even more confused than before.

The Zoni did not answer.

"Okay, but _why? I_   _guess_ they wanted him stuck in an organic body. And they won, even if they didn’t get the body they might have wanted…but still, what does a Loki spirit stand to gain from any of this? What do they want from Clank?”

* * *

 

“Rah-chet..” Clank said slowly. “What if it was not **_a_**  Lo-ki, but **_the_**  Lo-ki. The one from Mag-nus? He was not… hap-py about our pri-or cir-cum-stan-ces. But that means he could be hou-sing in a-ny-one in the De-fense Force. Or hop-ping be-tween. None of them are safe. If it were him, re-venge makes sense. You. Dead. Me… wish-ing I were. And no dir-ty hands.”

“We can stay, rest, and give me space to prac-tice la-ter. Right now, I… I think we need to leave. Tal-wyn… when did you last talk with Tal-wyn.”


	7. Seatbelts

"Do you really think it could be _him_? I thought we…I thought he would have dissipated by now, I thought we destroyed him. But…I guess he'd be the only one, as far as Loki go, with the interest or the ability…shit."

Ratchet sighed, rubbing his temples. His head hurt by now and he'd like nothing better than to just lie back on the rock and decompress for a few minutes. But if he's stressed, Clank must be ten times more so, and he doesn't want his friend any more stressed than he already is.

– "Last night. She called while you were in – uh, the 'cooker.' I didn't tell her what was going on, I just told her we were fine and we'd call her when we could." In spite of his resolution to keep it cool for his friend's sake, Ratchet can't hide the fear from his eyes. "Clank. You don't think the Loki could…it _can't_ possibly be powerful enough to – "

To possess Talwyn.

"S…she'll be okay, won't she?" he heard himself asking, like an imbecile.

* * *

"I… Rat-chet, we need to leave." Clank took a deep breath, composed himself, and grabbed Ratchet's wrist, before easing a little. He'd forgotten how strong he could grip as an organic- as a robot, he could mentally parse the kilos per square centicubit, and exert exactly what was needed. Here, he could have broken a wrist without thought.

Thank Orvus the Zoni had blunted his nails.

"He like-ly has a hold on some-one from the cen-ter… hope-ful-ly not Miss Ap-o-gee her-self."

Clank swished his tail, as much from agitation as it was needed to balance, retreating back outwards towards the Clock's edge and his ship.

Thankfully, Ratchet had been vague.

Thankfully, Perihelion had been re-registered in Axiom City, far from the main branches of the Polaris Defense forces.

Thankfully, Clank did have a body, and a robotic duplicate, and no-one was injured or dead.

That didn't make the situation any easier. They needed to find out a way to figure out where the Loki was, confront it, get it out of whoever it was possessing (Clank still had his Vac-U somewhere in Perry's cramped storage, so it wasn't a complete shot in the dark).

And then they needed to actually deal with the Loki for good. No weakening, no banishing. An actual kill.

Of a species that was the closest in the universe to rivaling the Zoni in their power. Probably why it did what it did in the first place; force the Zoni to have some sort of weakness. Those newly born Zoni weren't exactly fight-ready. If someone destroyed the shells of **_enough_** of them at once, their cloning process wouldn't be able to support the backlog in the short run, leaving the Universe temporarily defenseless.

And that was a sobering thou-

Clank stopped and froze. Sigmund was flying towards them, carrying Clank's chassis and free arm flailing.

"Guys! Guysguysguysguysguys…!" Sigmund paused, to compose. "There'salombaxrunningonrepeatoutsi-" Clank put a finger to Sigmund's speaker, muffling the noise.

"Slow-ly," Clank said.

"Clank! You got your voice back! Well, **_a_** voice back, well, Ratchet's-"

Clank shushed Sigmund again.

"Okay. Okay. I'm calm. Well, sorta calm. Guys, you need to see this, from a distance. And be honest with me- which one of you two messed with the time stream, and how recently did you do it? Because there's a trace outside- that old Lombax that tried to mess with the clock, so it might just be his own trace really-"

"Sig-mund…" Clank said, glaring. **_Get to the point._**

"Alister, right? His trace, sort of like a time-ghost-imprint… well, it's on this weird six-minute loop outside the ship dock. He starts hopping off the maintenance rails, holds out his wrench angrily, lets off an energy blast… then starts over. I've been watching him for the past half hour. And… and now, when he gets off the grind rail, he's dropping his wrench and hugging your ship."

"Sig-mund… I need you to go out there and have Per-i-he-li-on moved to the aux-i-lar-y dock."

"Uh, why?"

"He will not shoot you. He will pro-bab-ly kill us on sight."

* * *

Ratchet hissed in pain as Clank grabbed his wrist with – well, not an iron grip anymore, but one just as crushing. "Ow!"

But there isn't a moment to lose, so he followed Clank in uncharacteristic silence to the dock.

Well, they're gonna have to kill the Loki this time. There's no getting around that. Kicking it out of whatever host it's chosen shouldn't be too hard. If they could handle a Rykan V Grivelnox, they can handle anyone on the Defense Force. But then what? How do they _kill it_? It's a spirit! They can't touch it.

 _– Unless_ it's in a host, and then…? What do they have to do, _kill the host_? As sure as he is that the Loki needs to actually _die_ this time, he's not comfortable with that, at all. He can't think of any life he's willing to sacrifice to make sure that happens.

…

Except one.

He shudders and doesn't say anything – in fact, he decides that idea is not for sharing. Clank would never allow it. Instead he just keeps the option in his back pocket and hopes against hope it won't come down to _that._ He and Clank will find another way. They always do.

Sigmund catches them halfway out to the main dock, once again in a panic about something.

It's a good thing Clank is used to trying to keep up with Sigmund's trains of thought, because Ratchet doesn't understand. All he could pick up is that they needed to make a quick escape to the auxiliary dock, and that…Alister is here.

He took Clank's chassis from Sigmund, and as the Caretaker sprung into action, he headed in the opposite direction, leading Clank by the arm this time as he took the back way to the auxiliary dock. "Clank, what's going on?! How is Alister – how can he be here?! He's _dead_! I thought those time-ghost-things could only be recorded live!"

* * *

"That means it **_was_** re-cor-ded live," Clank said, slowly being able to parse his words faster. A little more practice and he'd be talking at speed. "Sev-eral years ago. "

"The Clock has an image of the Zoni," Sigmund said, out of Clank's chassis, through its comms unit. Thank goodness the thing was off, or Clank would really be having some severe body dysmorphia- not that he wasn't already. "Its a ghosting, helps the Zoni who 'die' find their way back to the Clock to get a new shell. Since Allister died here, and is strongly connected to you, the recording the Clock made probably triggered. It should be pretty safe. It's just memories made real- but since I'm not part of these memories, he can't do anything to me. Just… until I figure out how to get him off the main landing pad, you should meet me at the auxiliary dock and probably stay far away from here until I give the all clear."

"You said it was **_safe_** ," Clank replied slowly.

"I also know he shot a beam of hypercharged energy straight into Ratchet's heart. This thing is memory. It's **_not_** Alister. But that might mean it shoots you on sight, and that's…"

"Not a the-ory we want to test," Clank finished. "I a-gree."

"I've made it to the dock, you almost here?"

"We are," Clank replied, gently tugging on Ratchet to have him turn a corner, down a plexiglass pathway to a large brass door. The AI hummed, and opened out to the skyway. Perihelion's doors slid open, as Sigmund awkwardly bumbled out of the pilot's seat. "Get outta here, and call me if you need anything, okay? I'll let you know when I've cleared out the mem- son of a Qwark, get in!"

Alister's ghost had wasted no time in tracking down his old ship, and spying Ratchet, immediately changed stances to charge his wrench. Sigmund shoved Clank in first, then Ratchet, shutting the cockpit door behind them, as Perihelion lifted off before Alister could finish his motion. From his awkward position curled sideways in the seat, Clank watched the ghost fizzle and immediately return to its cycle back on the main parking deck, beginning its loop anew.

"Seatbelts," Perihelion gruffed. Right… Perihelion had also just seen his former master attempt to enter him for the past… long enough to probably unnerve him a little. He hadn't even commented on a pair of twin lombaxes in his seats yet.

Clank quietly bucked up as he noticed Ratchet doing the same, before…

Clank didn't realize the tears were streaking down his face until he was bawling heavily, pulling his legs into his chest as he made himself as small as possible, burying his muzzle between his knees and flopping his ears limply over the sides. Instinct? Mental breakdown? Clank didn't know, didn't care. All that happened now was his utter despair at the situation. The world felt so foreign, and he could barely contain himself; too much, and far too fast for Clank to handle.

Perihelion quietly dangled a gas mask down in front of him- probably for cryo gas- but Clank nudged it away; somehow, he didn't want to sleep it off, even though he wasn't sure what he wanted, as the sobs quieted down to tear streaks again, as Perihelion flung himself away from the Clock and back, aimlessly out into space.


	8. Towards Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEEEY! It's climax time! Hope you are all enjoying this, wrenchmxster and myself love writing it.
> 
> We'd love to hear feedback from you all if you have any? Maybe suggestions for future RPs?

 

Ratchet can't really do anything except for follow Clank, as Sigmund moved their ship and remotely explained about the glitchy Alister that might possibly kill them. Nope, he's done. Ratchet is one hundred percent done with this place; if he never sees the Great Clock again it'll be way too soon.

Running side-by-side with Clank, he tore across the skyway toward the backup dock, prepared to shove his friend into the passenger seat as Sigmund cleared out. Sigmund beats him to that, however, because he's back in a panic. It's just then that he realizes that Alister's ghost has caught up to them –

_Fuck._

With five years' worth of nightmares suddenly staring him right in the face, Ratchet simply freezes, ears flattened, eyes wide with bewildered terror. Everything simply shuts off. He can't speak, can't think straight and can't move – Alister is raising his wrench – _move!_ _ **Move**_ _goddamn it – !_

A shove from behind, and he toppled into the pilot's seat with a startled gasp, landing next to Clank. Good thing Sigmund was thinking fast. The cockpit sealed shut and Perihelion reminded them about seatbelts.

Out the window, Alister had disappeared, and Ratchet woke up just enough to buckle himself up and – and to hear himself crying?! But he's not… no. No, it's Clank.

Heart still pounding wildly, Ratchet sat in stunned silence, with Clank sitting next to him, still bawling, until Perihelion leaves the Clock's orbit. Not until that place is behind them and open space stretches out ahead does he release the breath he just noticed he'd been holding, and sank weakly against the seat back for a moment.

Then he turned sideways as much as he can and gathered Clank into his arms, without a word. The other Lombax didn't really seem to be in a panic or sobbing himself completely sick at this point anymore, but he still didn't seem to be okay, either, so Ratchet held him silently and let him cry out whatever he's still got left to cry out, gripping the scruff of his neck very gently, to try and ground him.

* * *

Clank leaned into Ratchet. This isn't the first time he's been held- robotic or organic, given the handling he'd been in for the past day as he 'grew up'. He vaguely remembered his first blind, soundless lift from the tank and the warm familial affection that followed. He'd been scruffed several times that day, too, first for reflexes, and now twice for stress. It absolutely was helping him calm down.

There was just something… warm, comforting about being held in another's arms. Addicting even. Didn't organics get a nice shot of dopamine and oxytocin from physical contact, lombaxes in particular? Either way, Clank's sobs died down to muffled whimpers, eventually leading to purrs as his ears were gently scratched.

"Thank you…" Clank eventually mumbled, as he pushed away from Ratchet, not before giving his best friend a strong, warm hug in return, and a few gentle scratches of his own for good measure.

"Back in your seat, Clank," Perihelion said drolly. "Seatbelt harness, too."

"How… did you know?" Clank asked, as he clipped himself in place.

"Sigmund tol' me," he replied. "Got your emotions out? That crazy janitor uploaded everythin' to me, so I'm already up to speed. Well, at least as far as what the flying blue blazes you two idiots have been doing. **_I_** slowed down off warp once we hit deep space. I'mma need some direction form you. Seems like you two need to go knock a skull or two, then you can come back to your pity-party."

"Ever the charmer," Clank said, before blinking. He hadn't needed to breathe between syllables!

"Well, first of all, we need to head to Meridian City and find Talwyn. She is either being held hostage by the person being possessed by the Loki, or she is herself possessed. The only way I think we can kill it is when it is taking someone else over. Or, at least it is worth a try. The only safe way to do that would be convincing a Zoni to house it and murdering the poor thing's shell or…" Clank spoke slowly and clearly, mitigating his pauses between words, unsure of whether to continue hi train of thought out loud.

"Or me." Clank gulped. "Ratchet, do not give me that face. I am a Zoni. It will be a pain, and I may need to possess you again until we can return to the Clock, but I **_could_** acquire another body. The bigger issue is convincing the Loki that his initial plan had failed, that I had been backed up onto a hard disk, and you and I are both as normal. Perihelion, if I disabled some of the antivirus off my chassis, could you operate it remotely and pretend you are me?"

"Don' see why not, I take over your nav unit on occasion. Weird having arms and legs, though."

"Well, Ratchet, you begin disabling the safeties, and Perihelion, I suggest you practice a little, if you can fly and remotely operate a device safely. You will be on my back, so you do not need to worry about being ambulatory." Clank squinted at Ratchet after his statement, as Clank watched Ratchet realize what he was planning.

"Yes, Ratchet, stop giving me that look. I have been acting for **_years_**. You are going to stay out of the line of fire, get Talwyn to safety once the Loki makes his move… and you will probably have to shoot me as well. Can you do that?"

"Ratchet, if you need some proof," Clank added, with a devilish grin, as he blinked a few times, coughed, and began speaking again, "well here. Nooooo I just wanna lie at home all day playing on my HV. You can't make me go outside, I think I saw one snow flake, its too coooooold. Someone give me attention and ear scritches, because I just wanna eat junk food and be laaaazy today."

Clank laughed, a hard bark in contrast to his own distinctive giggle, and reached into the minifridge behind him with ease. "Wait, what the? How's there only one birch beer left?" he added, genuinely surprised but still trying to mock Ratchet. "There were eight in there when we took off for Quartu. What the hey? I guess I'll just snag the last of 'em myself." He held the bottle up, just out of Ratchet's reach, taunting him with the last of the craft sodas.

Using Perihelion as an unwitting bottle opener, Clank took a giant swig, before puffing up his snout and making a face of disgust, breaking character. "Ratchet, explain to me how you find this in any way, shape, or form _consumable_? The taste is entirely unpalatable!"

* * *

"Oh, _ha ha._ Very funny." When Clank corpses, failing to get the soda down, Ratchet can't help a genuine laugh. "It's an acquired taste. Serves you right, buddy." (And there's only one left because it's been a nightmare of 48 hours.) "I'll take that if you're not gonna finish it."

In spite of all his worried looks, he does as Clank tells him and, setting Perry on an automatic course to Igliak, he busied himself with opening the chassis' maintenance hatch, extracting the fuses that connect the antivirus and firewall circuits so Perry will be able to control the machine. But that doesn't mean he _isn't_ worried, oh no. Not by a long shot. Is he really capable of shooting at Clank? Even if he's not actually taking his life or causing him any pain or injury? When Clank's in the form that's currently sitting powered-off on his lap, Ratchet's scared even to _drop_ him, shock absorbers and durable admantine plating or not. How is he supposed to deliberately _kill_ his organic shell?

And _will he be out of it?_ That's the part that has him the most confused…and the most nervy. It's a good thing he's got some busy work at the moment.

"I don't….I don't get it," he finally said. "I'm not, maybe it's just because I'm not Zoni that I'm not following. But let me see if I've got this straight. You're going to let the Loki spirit jump into your body. What about your soul? You can keep that away from him…right?"

He pulled another fuse, almost breaking it with unintended force.

"I mean…if he jumps over to your body and you jump out, what's gonna stop him from following? When he gets there and realizes you're not me – can he trap you? I mean, if you get to that point, then no matter what you do, he's not taking a chance on letting you escape. He wants you _dead_. Me too, I know, but I'm easy. You're a Zoni – if he sees an easy way to wipe you out he's not gonna pass up the chance…"

With the last firewall disabled, Ratchet, now without any work to distract him, suddenly noticed he's shaking like a damn leaf and his voice is cracking. He leaned over his knees, gripping the sides of his head and letting out a long breath.

"You can't ask me to shoot at you. Not if you don't have an out. Not if there's a chance I'll kill you both." Ratchet shook his head. "I won't do it. _I won't_."

* * *

"You are correct, Ratchet, there is no guarantee this is going to work," Clank replied, sighing, holding out the birch beer in trade for his chassis. "However, I have my own time abilities intact, and can call on the Zoni." He hoped, on that latter one. He wasn't sure he could slow down time enough to make the split-second movement from his own new body to Ratchet (or Talwyn, or some nearby piece of machinery) in time. He'd need the collective power of the Zoni to slow time to near standstill to get out just as the Loki jettisoned from its own overshadowed victim to him.

Hopefully he could still talk to them outside the Clock, or at least that they'd hear him and do as commanded. At this point, every Zoni in the universe would have known their big little brother had become fluffy.

"There are a few precautions. I am going to be asking the Zoni to slow down time, so that I have ample ability to exit my body just as the Loki tries to enter it. It is powerful, for certain, but Loki do not have the ability to manipulate time itself; once it leaves its host it will likely not realize I am leaving as well. Even if this fails to kill it, I am getting out of my body before it enters. End of conversation."

Clank stopped, as the chassis blinked to life in his hands, optics glowing a dull green as Perihelion began Clank's maintenance checks. It's the first time Clank himself has witnessed his own chassis going through the motions, blinking eyes, moving jaw, and flexing limbs, usually reserved for after a forced reboot or major repair.

"How are you faring in there?" Clank asked gently as the chassis' eyes brighten to their standard indoor luminosity.

"Kay, though I kinda understand how you feel right now," Perihelion replied, both in his normal vocalization out of the nav unit on the dashboard, and from within Clank's chassis in his own voice.

Clank patted his own chassis's head and set it down on the floor, so Perihelion could wiggle around in the tiny cargo space behind, perfect for taking a few steps, stretching, and running through the rest of the diagnostics.

"Ratchet, I have been given life, I am not going to throw it away so easily. However, the Loki cannot be left to roam free. It already stymied the Zoni before. It cannot be given free reign of the Polaris Defense Force. If you cannot shoot me- and I ask because you are the best sniper I know- at least release a Mr. Zurkon nearby that I can take over and do the job myself. Then you will know I am out and safe. They will not disobey their programming, but I **_can_** and **_will_**. It saved me last time, and provided a decent enough temporary vessel to boot."

Clank sat in silence after that, head down, and curled into the copilot's yoke, periodically looking at Ratchet, sipping the last of his sodas in equal silence.

"When we are done, we're going to need to get back to the Clock safely," Clank finally mused aloud. "I hope Sigmund is working out how to shoo off that memory imprint or getting back there to make me another clone is going to prove difficult."

Another stupid complication; Clank's tail thumped indignantly on the seat.

"After I am re-cloned," Clank said, as Perihelion began slowing down for landing back on their own roof, "Not **_if_** , but **_after_** , we both take a week off work and haul Talwyn off somewhere. I am already imaging a nice, long nap and some more crepes. No arguments," Clank added with finality, as Ratchet took over manual controls to land the ship.

~X~

The moment the two landed, Clank immediately felt his whole body light up like a live-wire. He couldn't see them, but there _were_ Zoni here, lots of them- far more than the number that would usually hang around their apartment block- waiting for them.

It felt like a warning.

The Loki must already be waiting for them; thank goodness Perry's shields were smoked and no-one could see in. But Clank needed to think fast. He closed his eyes, reaching out to his brothers that he could not see.

 ** _Infuse Ratchet with just enough power to make him Zoni. Do not overwhelm him,_** Clank reached to them with his thoughts, hoping he was acknowledged.

Although Clank could not see the ley lines or other indications, Ratchet was now floating a centicubit off his seat, held in place by his own still-buckled yoke.

"Ratchet, I apologize," Clank said simply. "I cannot see the Zoni, but I can feel them. I asked them to do what we did on Quartu. The Loki is already here, probably in our apartment. There is no time for us to prepare, and I only pray it did not detect two Ratchets as we landed. Now you are just another ambient Zoni to it."

"There is no time to practice. You need to trade clothing with me, and I need to go down there and end this."


	9. Talwyn

"We _never_ get any practice runs, do we?" Ratchet laughed weakly, unbuckling his chest armor and harness and shuffling out of his jumpsuit, flinging it over his shoulder in Clank's general direction and catching the clothes that are thrown over to him. He keeps his NAV unit, sine his mat-compressor's linked to it. He's just going to ignore how silly he feels buttoning up a floral camp shirt from Pokitaru right before facing down the Loki, and trying to get those pants on while he's floating a couple of centicubits above ground on Zoni energy is…um, interesting. Somehow he manages, though, and, after zipping his jacket, he turns and helps Clank fasten the armor and harness buckles – something he's flexible enough to do on his own, but they might be a bit of a reach for Clank.

"Okay," he sighed, leaning into the cargo hold, "time for the finishing touch. Perry, how're we feeling?"

" _How're we feeling, he says_ ," the ship's AI grumbled in the voice Ratchet is used to hearing from Clank. " _If my directionals are crossed when I get back in my own system, I'm blaming you guys."_

"Yeah, you're good. Just avoid using any contractions and nobody's the wiser." Ratchet picked Perry up and fastened him to the mag-latch on Clank's back.

" _Try not to die_." Perry fixed a stare on him. " _Both of you. Seriously_."

"Hey, don't worry, we've got this," Ratchet said – automatically, doubtfully. "We outsmarted him once, we can do it again, right? Let's go."

Ratchet floated alongside Clank into the lobby and up in the elevator, in uncharacteristic silence, just trying not to overthink what they're about to do, or to let the sight of the Zoni or the planet's ley lines rattle him too much (and boy, he's really hoping they can get this over with before he passes out like last time).

"Be careful, Clank," is all he says when they reach their home floor. Then he rides up to the next floor alone.

From the mezzanine on the floor above home, he finds a decent vantage point, huddled on the floor behind one of the garden tubs, where he can see their apartment's front door. So long as Clank keeps the door open and doesn't wander too far into the apartment, he's in firing range. If he looks really, really hard, the Loki might spot him up here – but he shouldn't have any reason to, while Ratchet's bio-signature is temporarily Zoni.

Holding his breath, he stretched out on his belly, queueing a Zurkon unit and his plasma striker from his mat-compressor. He watched Clank and Perry approach their front door and key in, and slowly lets out the breath he's holding, trying to remain calm. When the door slides open, Ratchet immediately sees signs of a struggle in the apartment – the picture window is shattered and there are scorch marks all over the carpet. Well, they can kiss their deposit goodbye.

_There she is._

Clank was right. It's Talwyn that the Loki spirit is using as his puppet this time. She looks normal on the surface – unharmed, eyes wide with concern – but probably thanks to his "Zoni-vision", he can see that she's being overshadowed. None of her movements, none of her words, are actually hers – and beneath every single move he can actually sense a deep undercurrent of fear.

Infuriated, Ratchet clenched his fists, claws biting into his palms. _The Loki is going to pay for all of this._

* * *

Clank gets in the jumpsuit just fine- it's some derivative of kevlar and neoprene- waterproof and tough, but weirdly rubbery. He doesn't like how it feels on his fur.

The armor is worse. It's a lot heavier and more constricting than he was expecting, and it almost feels like Ratchet is buckling him in just a bit too tightly.

It's when Ratchet snaps Perihelion controlling his own chassis on his back, the AI wiggling in discontent, that Clank feels the literal weight of what he's attempting to do.

A quick once- over on the myriad of straps and buckles, and Clank slid out the copilot's seat, walking alongside a lazily floating Ratchet.

When they entered the elevator, Clank shut his eyes. He didn't want to face himself in the chrome psuedo-mirror of the interior of the doors. Only when he heard them open again did he squeeze Ratchet's hand, open his eyes, and fumble for his keyfob to unlock their home.

 ** _So that's what torched carpet smells like_** , he thought as the crisp harsh scent burned his nostrils. Talwyn's sitting exasperated on the floor, and Clank can't tell if she's possessed ** _. At all_**.

"Hey," Clank said quietly, bending over carefully, mindful of Perry and his tail. Time to put his acting to work for real. "Tal- Tal are you okay? What happened here?"

She sniffed a little, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "I dunno. We got word that someone was torching this apartment bloc, I came myself. Some Argoninan was searching for something, nearly set my hair on fire, and fled."

Clank looked carefully in the room. The glass… it had been shattered inward. Right. Talwyn had a passcode to the front door, but no key fob to their apartment proper.

This wasn't Talwyn.

Clank curled his tail around Perry's left foot. Ratchet may have been able to see, but Perry could commlink to him, knowing what it meant.

"Tal, let's get you up. There you go," Clank said steadily, attempting to lift her to her feet. Talwyn was still there, being controlled, much like Clank had done to Ratchet only days ago.

"You got Clank a new body?"

"Oh, yeah, he was in a plush toy," Clank said absentmindedly. "Oh, great. We left it on Quantos. I'll have to get him a new backup, it's probably covered in dust and mud now."

"Please do," Perry said, eerily in Clank's own old voice. "I would rather have my backup not be caked in dirt, Ratchet."

 ** _Wow this day was weird,_** Clank thought, just as Talwyn pulled out a knife and plunged it in his chest.

"If I can't kill Clank," 'Talwyn' said with a sneer, "Then I'll just have to ruin the rest of his er, life, instead. I've shut off comms here. I'm going to enjoy watching you bleed out for the next few hours, Ratchet. Clank, I know how far you can reach with your little Zoni possession trick. Too bad you didn't take over your friend here three days ago."

"Who… are you?" Clank asked, shocked, and spitting up a little blood. He already knew the answer, but he needed to pretend he didn't.

"You know what? I don't need this harlot anymore, she's done her job," the Loki said, escaping as black ooze out Talwyn's mouth and nose and pooling into a living-room sized monster before Clank and Perry. Talwyn passed out on the floor immediately.

"Still a bit of me in her, Clank, and it's the part that's controlling her lungs. Go on, you're a Zoni. You can possess living beings and save her life, you know. Too bad you didn't try it earlier. You took over a Zurkon back in the PDC didn't you? I watched those tapes. Should have blown them up to give you nowhere to run."

"This knife wound hurts like a… well, it isn't fatal. What are you playing at?" Clank asked, squinting. "All I'll do is pass out in a bit. I've got nanotech in me, so it's just going to cauter- cau- it'll scar over."

"Oh, its easy, Ratchet- I want to make you two suffer. Clank, just go save your best friend's girlfriend and we'll talk."

"I'm gonna be sick," Clank said, coughing up blood again, before faking passing out. He already knew what the Loki wanted- for him to bind to an organic. Too bad he'd already dealt with that. Perry caught on, powering down, and Clank left his body for Talwyn's, coming up choking.

[Are you all right, Talwyn?] he asked, as he righted himself and began breathing for her, coughing out the last of the Loki.

[ARE YOU CRAZY?!] Talwyn screeched back. [DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HE'S TRYING TO-]

[Oh, Ratchet and I are fully aware. Please relax, and I apologize for what we are about to do. Just… all you need to know is Ratchet is not in this room at all.]

But out of Talwyn's mouth, Clank attempted to squeak again, flapping gums as he did before learning what to do.

"Ahahahahahah!" the Loki screamed. "You don't even know how to talk! Oh, this is rich. Head's up, egghead, you're bound to organics now. In about 20 hours or so, Talwyn's soul will shatter under your superior Zoni one, and you'll be stuck in her body, killing her. Leave, and unless you take over and do that to some other hapless person, YOU DIE! Isn't that WONDERFUL?"

Clank gaped, fish eyed on the floor.

[I hope you know what you're doing, Clank.]

[That lombax was me,] he replied, as he stood up, fumbling for Talwyn's blaster at her hip.

"Oh, come on, really? You think a peashooter is going to do anything? I have a better idea. Let me take over your little friend while he's passed out. See, there's this thing about my species, we always come back. Always. Unless you kill us in a host like your friend there. I'll give you a choice, egghead. I'm going to hop in your friend here, you can murder the both of us- or you let me walk free. You're on your own about killing your little Markazian friend though. Sound good?" The Loki dripped a scathing smile, then slithered itself into Clank's like-new clone body on the floor, coughing, before shaking himself out and grinning from the corner of his mouth. "So, **_Clalwyn_**. Whaddya gonna do?"


	10. Aftermath

Ratchet waited, barely breathing, watching the situation unfold. His hearing's good, but every floor of the building has a high ceiling, so at this distance it's hard to make out what's being said. He's assuming Clank is just getting the Loki's guard down, trying to convince him he's won.

This'll be simple. Ratchet just has to keep watch for any sudden moves. One twitch from not-Talwyn and he'll throw a Zurkon out for Clank to jump to, just as the Loki inevitably comes for him. He kept a sharp eye on the shadow looming over Talwyn, waiting for it to make its move. The Loki sure is taking its time. He shifted uncomfortably as his lower ribs dig into the carpeted floor –

and then he notices he's not floating anymore.

And the visual cues – Clank's aura, Perihelion's glow, the Loki's shadow – they melt away into the flat fluorescence of the living room's lighting.

And his head starts to swim and he feels short of breath.

Wait.

Wait, _no. Not this again._ The last time Zoni energy filtered out of him, he passed out. This can't happen again –

Talwyn moves. _Knife!_ She's got a –

She stabbed him. She stabbed Clank.

Ratchet claps his hand to his mouth.

Talwyn staggered, and drops to the floor in a heap. Clank is on his knees. Ratchet can't see anything except for those two, and he has no idea whether anyone's in the right body. Clank's talking. Ratchet strains to hear, although he can't hear _anything_ over the hammering of his heart, blood rushing over his eardrums. Is Clank talking to _him,_ or Perry, or – ! When Clank finally collapses, Talwyn struggles to sit up, and the look on her face is absolute stark panic as she sees Clank's body.

Ratchet was panicking too – already weak from the sudden dearth of Zoni energy, he felt numb and shaky. The chassis doesn't look active. Where _is_ Clank? Where's the Loki? What happened?!

Desperate, he flung the Zurkon out, hoping it'll know what the right target is, or whether the Loki has escaped.

It dropped. It never even made it into the living room, clanging uselessly on the tile outside the front door.

" _Fuck_!" Ratchet pounded a weak fist against the floor. "Fucking – dammit…!"

And now Clank is up again. Or _is_ it Clank?

He has to do it.

He has to take the shot. If the Loki is in there, they can't risk letting him escape again. They're all out of trick cards.

But _WHAT IF CLANK IS STUCK IN THERE?!_

Huddled up on the floor, Ratchet flattened his hands against his temples and let out a thin, exhausted scream. It's much quieter than he feels it should be. Every cell in his body seems to protest what he's about to do. Every self-accusing thought he never expected or wanted to think piles on him at once, suffocating him.

Clank reordered time itself for Ratchet, and there's a fifty-fifty chance that Ratchet is about to repay him by destroying him, forever.

_The universe has a cruel_ _**fucking** _ _sense of humor._

Ever the rash, impulsive one, he yanked the butt of the plasma striker against his shoulder, desperate to get the damn thing over and done with. In one perfect, smooth motion, he sights it in and pulled the trigger.

The shot flies true, straight through the other Lombax's brain.

Then, with what trace of strength is left in him, he's heading downstairs. He doesn't waste time with the elevator, vaulting straight off the mezzanine. The sloppy, inelegant jump nearly wrecks his knees for good. Talwyn – or maybe it's the Loki, who even gives a fuck – flew through his peripheral vision as Ratchet collapsed at Clank's side, tugging him into his arms.

He's dead. After a shot like that, how could he not be?

But _who's dead?_

It's too much for him. Just the way Clank did a couple hours ago, when the stress of his new organic existence and the chase from the out-of-control ghost of Alister wore too much on his nerves, Ratchet absolutely shatters, crumbling into hysterical tears as the stress of these past two days finally crushes him.

Cradling the other Lombax, not mindful of the blood, he sobs convulsively and hoarsely against his shoulder, crying harder than he's ever cried in his life. "I'm sorry!" he groaned. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry – "

A surge in his veins, by now a familiar one, suddenly takes his breath away. Words printed themselves in his subconscious.

 ** _Do not be afraid_** _,_ the Zoni sing. **_Sire is safe._**

It's probably for the best that at that point, Ratchet completely blacks out.

Clank, in Talwyn, felt time slow down to a crawl, hearing a distant clatter followed dully by the sound of a shot. In what felt like eons, but was probably just half a second, a searing beam of plasma, red hot and prickly, burned down from an angle above them.

Clank's almost new body had a hole where his brain should have been.

The room began to smell like the world's worst barbecue. Clank and Talwyn collectively wobbled. [He did it,] Clank whispered mentally, despite the fact that no one but Talwyn could hear in their heads. [Let us go and make sure he is okay, then I need to go and get myself patched up.]

[Through the-] was all Talwyn could stammer in shock. The only reason she hadn't passed out was Clank in control, jogging back to the elevator once a warm pulse fed through Talwyn's body. Clank couldn't see them, but the Zoni were giving them the metaphorical thumbs up.

Ratchet tore down from the floor above, his leg twisting from the jump in a panic. Immediately, Clank felt Talwyn's relief as she saw Ratchet, the real one, with her own eyes. [When I'm not scared, confused, and a little angry, you're going to tell me what the hell just happened,] she squeaked out.

[Most certainly,] Clank replied, turning heel. Ratchet sobbed next to Clank, drenched in blood, before suddenly perking up, sniffling.

And then promptly passed out with Clank in his arms.

* * *

[Oh dear,] Clank thought. [Talwyn, I am going to sit you down and then move out. We need to dispose of my body and then get me back to the Clock, soon as we can. Okay? The minute I leave you need to **_not pass out on me_**.]

Clank sat Talwyn down in Ratchet's favorite chair, then hopped over into his friend, willing Ratchet's body to let go of his own corpse. "Talwyn?" Clank said, testing out his voice. Clank felt Ratchet's presence at the back of his mind, mentally exhausted and passed out. "Ratchet has passed out from stress. I need a few minutes to calm his body down. We need to fly back to the Clock. Sit and decompress, please. I cannot even begin to comprehend the stress you faced."

Talwyn shook like a leaf, sobbing.

"Everyone is okay," Clank cooed, talking quickly as he started stripping Ratchet's armor off his corpse. " ** _That_** was my new body. The Loki did force me into Ratchet a few days ago. I have already bound to him."

"Was the Loki lying about- about soul shattering?"

"No," Clank replied, stripping the corpse nude and rolling it in a sheet so he didn't need to see it anymore. "However, the Zoni helped me with a clone. I did not displace or kill anyone before I shattered Ratchet, though it was dangerously close. He is simply unconscious from the shock. We had no way of letting him know I wasn't in my body. He had to take that shot blind."

Clank threw his corpse in the incinerator, shuddering as he pressed the button to vaporize the trash, before realizing he should have done that last. The incinerator buzzed angrily and did not fire.

The building's system detected a dead body. The police would be there soon.

"Talwyn, we need to go. Now." Clank thought out to the Zoni, grabbed his chassis in one hand and Talwyn in the other. Covered in his own blood, Clank ran right out the open veranda window, before his stomach went up in his throat and the Zoni levitated the three of them straight up to the parking deck.

"Can you fly?"

"I… Should be okay to get out of atmosphere."

"Follow me in your ship. We will be too many people on the return trip."

Sirens already blaring, Clank gently let go of Talwyn on the roof, swung into Perihelion, and gunned the engine.

"Could'a been worse," Perry grunted out of his own speaker and Clank's chassis. "I'll evict my programming after I bail you two out, kit."

"Thanks, Perihelion," Clank replied, going through the motions of liftoff just before Talwyn's own engines lit to life. As soon as they were out of planetary reach, Clank initiated comms. "Miss Apogee?"

"Clank?"

"Set your ship to shadow Perihelion. Do not store these coordinates. I am taking you to the Clock. If you can in any capacity, I need you to send our security camera footage to the police. My dental records do not match Ratchet's, and the video will show us both in frame. I do not need Ratchet pronounced dead, that is going to make things far more complex later. If they ask, a shape shifting species broke in and began aggression in our home."

Clank breathed out a giant sigh he'd been holding back, as he heard Tal's own comms in the background ringing off the hook. Talwyn could take care of that wrinkle. Ratchet and Clank still had one more of their own to do.

Clank felt Ratchet beginning to rouse inside him. [You did it,] Clank said softly. [Everybody is safe.]

[We just have one thing left to do, Ratchet. Well, two.]

Before Clank could face Sigmund's wrath and go back in the cloning machine, they needed to land.

Landing meant facing that fragmented memory of Alister.

* * *

_[Disconnected again.]_

_[Suspended in the void, Ratchet can't bring himself to care how he got separated from his body or what happens to him now. Maybe the Zoni were mistaken. Maybe the Loki has won and absorbed him. It doesn't make any difference to him, now that Clank is – ]_

_[ – wait.]_

_[He isn't alone. The presence reaching out to him, speaking to him, the mind he's stuck inside now is – ]_

_[_ _**Clank! You're okay!** _ _] [If he had control over his body right now, he'd be sobbing with relief. So it was a lucky shot after all.] [_ _**Buddy, listen – I didn't mean to take so long – I lost my Zoni-power-thing, and I couldn't tell who was where. I'm so sorry –** _ _]_

_[Even as he thinks it, though, Clank's relative calm reassures him that the apology probably isn't necessary, and whether intentionally or not, he's given non-visual, non-verbal images of everything he missed while unconscious, and learns that Talwyn is also safe, and currently getting the authorities out of the picture.]_

_[_ _**Well, Sigmund's going to be pissed.** _ _]_

_[But first, there's Alister to deal with.]_

_[Ratchet lapses into silence, drifting into the void until they near the Great Clock – he can tell because his perception once again opens up to try and take in the entire fabric of space-time again. This time he sees it coming, and manages to narrow his focus to Clank's experience, so he isn't overwhelmed. He can sense Alister's shadow out there, a ghost on a perpetual time loop.]_

_[He nudges Clank._ _**Let me drive?** _ _]_

* * *

"No," Clank replied out loud, so Perihelion could hear, before turning on the comms so Talwyn could as well, adding, "Ratchet is awake, by the way, and I am not loosening my control on him just yet, and for this I apologize. Ratchet, you are weak and exhausted, and in shock. I am concerned that if I recede, you may pass out. Just… try and relax a little, please. I may have an idea of how to take care of that memory imprint, as well. Once we have landed, I will go back into the cloning tank so you can get some proper sleep- so long as Sigmund does not decide to murder us first."

With that, Clank reclined and stretched out in the chair, before jolting up.

"I did salvage your armor off my body, but I do not have any spare clothing with me!" he yiped.

~X~

The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful, with Clank finally filling in Talwyn on the details of the past few days, and she in return, after getting the authorities to check the dental records against Clank's corpse's teeth, as well as the video feed of a **_Loki_** entering the duplicate's body.

Thank goodness Ratchet had that root canal two years ago, as well as installing that security camera at the entrance. The Polaris Intelligence Agency quietly disposed of what they thought was a Loki for them, and was even cleaning up the place as if the entire ordeal never happened, new plexi, carpet, and all. They'd even dry clean Ratchet's armor for them.

Clank made a mental note to send their case worker a box of fruit and flowers later.

~X~

Perihelion circled the Clock, noticing the Alister cycle still running on loop. Clank pinged down to Sigmund.

"No luck yet, Sigmund, with disabling that memory?"

"You're back," Sigmund nearly yelped on the other end of the line. "No, Ratchet, I got nothing, or… was that Clank?"

"Technically speaking, Clank," Clank replied drolly. "Though I would like a new starter cell on standby, for myself, please, and a warm bedroll and some hot food for three. Ratchet is near to blacking out again, and I cannot hold us together much longer."

"You didn't do anything… stupid out there, did you, sir?" Sigmund nearly screeched.

"I? No. Us? Absolutely," Clank replied. "The Loki is disposed of, and we have a friend in tow.

"As long as your friend isn't here for the Orvus Chamber…" Sigmund left hanging. "I'll freak out later," he finally added. "Zoni are already making you a new cell from the master, and there will be beds and hot food as you need it. But how are you gonna land?"

"Carefully," Clank replied. "Ratchet, I am giving you back your face," he added. "You know him better than I ever did, so I am counting on you. Do not pass out on me, and if you can handle it, I will pass more back to you. As soon as he is gone and we have landed, I will vacate to that cell."

"It's standing by, sir, just let me know when it's safe to have me come and get you," Sigmund said nervously. "I'll carry you two idiots in myself if I have to. Don't die on us."


	11. Breath

_My face – ? Pal, if you want me to shake him off I'm gonna need –_

"– a lot more than my face – ?" Ratchet trailed off as he notices he's speaking out loud all of a sudden, brought effortlessly back in the realm of words and sight and time as Clank withdraws a little bit. He glanced around, quickly taking stock. Clank is landing the ship, and there's a figure hurrying across the skyway to the dock. Ratchet thinks it's Sigmund for just half a second, before it dawns on him that it's Alister's ghost again.

He doesn't freeze up this time. He can't. Not with Clank at the helm, steadily unbuckling the seatbelt, propelling his body out of the cockpit. He doesn't get to hesitate, he doesn't get to think. What is he supposed to _do?!_

 _Duck! DUCK!_ he urged Clank as Alister raised his wrench.

They go tumbling across the deck, a bolt of negative energy crackling above them and flying harmlessly into open space.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet!" Alister's furious, anguished shout is a perfect echo from five years ago. "I've come too far to fail now!"

"General, **_stop_** _!_ " Ratchet burst out, in spite of himself.

And suddenly, memory fails him. And Azimuth **_hesitated_** _._

He can _hear_ him. He can _see_ him. When Clank said this was a recording, he didn't mention it was a _live_ recording. Ratchet felt his blood run cold. Don't pass out, Clank says. Yeah. Now he sees why he isn't being allowed to drive.

"No! I'm not about to let you stand in my way after twenty years of – "

"I'm not – nobody's standing in your way, Alister, **_dammit_** , look around you!" Now Ratchet was the one shouting, and now that he'd started, he can't stop, with five years' worth of hurt and betrayal and rage and heartbreak bubbling just beneath the surface and threatening to burst out.

"You _lost!_ You _tried_ to use the Great Clock as a time machine, after everything I said and everything I did, even after I spelled it out for you, _No, this isn't right,_ _ **this isn't what I want**_! And what did you do?! You tried to kill me! You were the closest thing I ever had to a family, to – to a _father,_ and **_you tried to kill me_** _!"_

Tears are streaking through his fur now, but he doesn't even notice. "And _as if that wasn't enough,_ you almost destroyed the universe and then you killed yourself fixing the Orvus Chamber because you finally decided to shut up and _listen!_ And you wanna know something, General?! **_You're not even real_**! And you can't change the past – because you _are_ the past! And I'm done playing your stupid games! And I'm going inside the Clock right now and you can't stop me, so **_back off_** _!_ "

Ratchet stood there as he's met with silence, panting, and he would be clenching his fists and shaking if Clank didn't still have control over most of his nervous system.

Unexpectedly, Alister dropped his wrench, and he glanced around, eyes as frightened and despairing as the distant moment when he realized he had all but destroyed the Orvus Chamber.

"I see…" he rasped. "I understand. So I…I failed after all. But I didn't…clearly I didn't destroy the Clock?"

"No. You reset the master switch before it could melt down. You saved the Clock. Left us to fix all the damage you did, but still."

Alister sank to his knees, staring down at his hands for a moment as if in wordless horror and awe, and finally hides his face.

"Then _what_ ," he implored, mournfully, hopelessly, "am I to do now, Ratchet?"

If there was even anything left of his heart to break, it crumbles now.

"I don't know, Alister. I really don't know," he said, voice cracking. "Just…stop. You've already made your choice, remember? Just let the past rest. Just _rest, for once._ "

"I'm not very good at this 'resting' business," Alister mumbled, shaking his head with a rueful half-smile, half-cringe. "I'm getting old – hell, who am I kidding, I _am_ old. Sometimes I think if I stop for too long, I'll…I – " He lifted his head abruptly, looking alarmed. "I don't have much time left. Ratchet, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say – "

"Don't say anything," Ratchet pleaded, anguished, but Alister talked over him.

"I was so close to going _home_. So close to seeing my family again, my friends – I was willing to sacrifice you to get there. Nothing is worth that, I can see that now. Not even….Elders, what could I say to your father?! I wouldn't be able to face him. I…"

Alister bit back a sob behind a clenched fist, pulling himself back together with all his strength.

At this point Ratchet is begging Clank to give him control again. _Please,_ _ **please**_ _let me go to him, please. I'm not going to pass out. I'm not going to do anything stupid, please just let me –_

"I never set out to hurt you. I swear I didn't. I…guess I was so desperate to have my family back, maybe to get yours back – I didn't see that it was right there, by my side all along."

Ratchet can't tell whether it's by his own efforts or Clank's, but he takes a shaky step toward Alister, hand outstretched.

Alister sniffled, reached out. "Oh, if they could see you now, you parents would be so – "

And he disappeared.

After all, he was a time ghost all along, and he fizzled as he reaches the end of his loop and the Clock chimes for six minutes. He doesn't reappear.

Left reaching out for nothing but empty air, talking to nobody, Ratchet hit the ground, weeping brokenly, shattered by five years' worth of buried grief. He doesn't hear Talwyn landing behind him, and doesn't even know she's there until she's holding him, and then he clings to her almost for dear life.

* * *

Talwyn wasn't the only one come to greet them. Sigmund was there, too, hung back, with as much pained nervousness as his robotic features allowed him. Clank felt hot tears streaking down Ratchet's fur, as Talwyn scooped him up in a warm embrace. Clank felt like… he was intruding, somehow, on a moment that was supposed to be private. If he were at least in his own body, it wouldn't be nearly as awkward.

Clank heard a loud _thunk_ , and Ratchet turned his head to look. Clank's own chassis was- **_right_**. Perihelion was still operating it. On unsteady, tottering steps, Perihelion wobbled over to the group, standing close enough to commiserate and far enough to not enter their space. What Clank would have done until he was invited in to comfort Ratchet.

Talwyn took an arm off Ratchet, letting not just Perihelion, but Sigmund into their circle as Ratchet cried it out.

"Uuuuuh," Sigmund eventually piped. "I hate to cut this short, but we really need to get XJ in another body. Better for both of you. C'mon, warm meal, warm beds, and as punishment for running off on me like that, you're all taking one week off. Here. You're not running off again until I'm sure both of you are physically stable," he added, helping pull Ratchet and Clank to their feet.

"What are you gonna do, put me on lockdown?" Perihelion asked, laughing. "You can try to crack our security, or you could just ask nicely. Though if they wanted to be asses and leave in Tal's ship…"

"Naaaah," Sigmund replied. "They'll stay if they know what's good for them. Clank, I have your cell with me. In you go. You shouldn't be in there any more than you need to, that's no good for Ratchet."

Clank did as instructed, pushing himself from Ratchet towards the petri dish and…

he gasped for air, goo in fur, blind and deaf. Clank was lifted yet again from the cloning chamber in Sector Eleven, and washed down. This time, though, once he'd been toweled off, whoever lifted him didn't have Ratchet's claws. Talwyn, then, and she immediately started snuggling Clank, stroking him with a finger. Eventually, Sigmund teased him out of her grasp, giving him a quick checkup before he was put back in the tank.

When he drew breath again, he did his best to spread his limbs so the Zoni could cut his nails, before being dropped back in again. Twice more, he was lifted out of the gel just for clipping, before he was pulled again off the netting and washed.

"Two," Sigmund told him while Clank was being scrubbed in the basin, and he nodded, ears flopping. His head was so big and his limbs were too small. "How you handling?"

"Okay," Clank squeaked out before giggling. Of course he would sound like a toddler- he **_was_** one. He purred loudly, content, as the Zoni in charge of cleaning off the tank goo stuck to him scrubbed more shampoo in his fur. Clank himself discovered his coordination was still heavily lacking, as he tried to turn around in the basin, and resigned himself to the assistance.

Finished, the tub was drained and Sigmund motioned to Ratchet and Talwyn that Clank was now safe to touch. Immediately, Talwyn scooped Clank into a big warm hug.

"Clank, I'm sorry, but I could just cuddle you all day. Oh, no, wait, not sorry. You're soft and adorable."

"If you plan on keeping me out of the tank for any more than my checkup, can I at least have a towel?" Clank asked, as he tried to wriggle out of Talwyn's grasp. "I find it an invasion of Ratchet's privacy."

"Uh-uh," Sigmund replied, shaking the entire upper half of his chassis. "You're getting a shave, and some clothes the Zoni made for you, and your shots, and then we're kicking you out."

"But I'm a toddler," Clank protested.

"And you're not leaving the Clock 'till all of you are rested. There's your punishment for flying off on us and getting yourself killed."

"But I can barely walk!"

"Maybe next time you won't be so… so… gosh-darn crazy," Sigmund countered, tweezing Clank from Talwyn so the Zoni could shave down his fluffy fur. "Not too much… he'll get cold," Sigmund added.

"We know what Lombax children look like," the Zoni replied in unison.

"Gah, even I forget you guys have been around the block. Well, hop to," Sigmund said with a nod.

"Are you really keeping us here a whole week? I have to get back to Ig-"

"You were possessed by a Loki, weren't you? And you want to just run off? Ooooooh no," Sigmund said, gently holding Talwyn in place with his hands on her shoulders. "You're getting a diagnostic and rest, just like Idiots Number One and Two here. Ratchet needs time to heal, you need time to heal, and Clank absolutely needs time to heal and get used to his new body. **_Properly_** this time. Nobody's running off. Capice? Ratchet? Oh, great, see? He's fallen asleep on the floor and he's still drenched in blood. Come on, if there's any reason at all- that's it right there," he added, gently turning Talwyn to face Ratchet, who'd finally passed out on the floor.

"Let's at least get the blood out of his fur and that shirt off, the Zoni can make you both some fresh clothes and get you some food later after some rest. Come on, bed, all of you."

"Yes, **_mom_** ," Talwyn replied.

* * *

**_[Crack.]_ **

Outside, Ratchet's body suddenly stopped crying as Sigmund swoops down on them, fussing like one of the hens he used to tend, but Ratchet himself is absent from the conversation, as a sudden, painful _crack_ , as startling as a shot, causes him to lose grip.

_[It's not even a sound, it's a feeling, like the occasional sudden jolt right back into wakefulness before sinking into a peaceful night's sleep – except it feels more like a crushing weight, more violent, more…final._

_It_ _**hurts** _ _, beyond comprehension, beyond any possibility of comfort or relief. Ratchet loses material consciousness, sinking once again into the quiet darkness at the back of Clank's mind and, once there, being swept away by the undertow of pain, unable to fight it, unable to convulse or scream or do anything at all. He can't bear it. He_ _**can't** _ _, not for another second. One more second and this pain is going to kill him._

_This is how Master Yorn was lost. It dawns on him, a cold, hard truth. Shattering. This is it. This is_ _**how a soul shatters.** _

_He's as good as lost, and after all he and Clank have been through over the past few days, after fighting tirelessly to keep each other alive, Clank is inadvertently killing him._

_Well. He's killed Clank's organic body, so now they're even. At least_ _**one** _ _of them gets to go home._

_It's probably a good thing that the pain is so intense it doesn't give Ratchet any time to dwell on everything he's losing, the life he's leaving behind. Except for one part, the most important part._

**_At least let me say goodbye…_ **

_And suddenly,_

_relief._

_The pressure lifts. The pain dissipates. Clank fades away. It's not the end. Ratchet still exists._

_Utterly drained, he fades into darkness]_ and his body collapses on the cloning room floor the moment Clank evacuates to a new cell.

X

How many days later is it that Ratchet wakes up?

Without even opening his eyes or moving, he can tell he's properly settled in his own body, soul still intact.

About time. And thanks, Loki, for making him an overnight expert at judging his own existential state.

No light filters through his closed lids, and everything is quiet. It was pain and pressure that almost tore him apart earlier, but right now his body is lapped in warmth and comfort and that shattering pain seems impossible, only a bad dream. A faint whiff of lavender tells him he's in one of the sleeping pods in Sector Four, where some air filters from the nearest garden in Sector Three.

He also catches Talwyn's scent, notices her body tucked next to his in a tangle of blankets, her arms warm and heavy around him. Her quiet, even breaths tell him she's sleeping peacefully. Grateful that she survived her brush with the Loki, he kisses her temple.

There's another warm, soft weight settled next to him, but he can't smell it so he opens one eye. Oh, that's why.

It's Clank. His new body is finished. Or is it? He's just a cub – Ratchet's no good at guessing ages, but he'd have to say about two or three. Doesn't take him long to figure out why Clank hasn't been aged up yet, and he chuckles silently. Sigmund, you bastard.

Clank yawns, his tiny ears twitching and his fingers stretching out and kneading the blanket in his sleep, and Ratchet carefully disentangles one of his arms from Talwyn's hug so he can scratch behind the kit's ear, causing Clank to roll on his back, purring loudly and contentedly.

He smiles and nuzzles the little ball of fluff. Babysitting should be a breeze compared to what he and Clank have been put through this week, after constantly being within an inch of losing each other…His stomach and throat clench and his eyes sting, but with a soft sigh, he calms himself back down, dwelling only on the present. That's all that matters, now. Everyone is safe.

So for now, Ratchet goes back to sleep.

_The Zoni lift their voices in a gentle chorus as they thread their way around the rifts in spacetime, healing and mending._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> wrenchmxster and I wish to thank you for reading! Comments/feedback/prompts greatly appreciated. I'll have some new stories (or more chapters to existing) soon-ish.


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